


Blighted

by Ruu



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: 9:55 Dragon, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Character Death, Gen, Headcanon, Multi, POV Multiple, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruu/pseuds/Ruu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>((An alternate Thedas full of my and my friend's OC's. Mainly doing this for them to read :) Though everyone is welcome to enjoy of course! ))</p><p>“We’ve been here before, Kadan!“<br/>His words echoed throughout the dark, narrow caves and lost themselves somewhere along the way. A sharp truth rang with them, one that was hard to admit after all this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Like the tags suggest, this is an alternate Thedas. Most major characters are replaced with OCs, though history stays the same. So yes, the events of the Fifth Blight, the shit happening at Kirkwall and also the Breach and the Inquisition, all took place.
> 
> This was written by me and a friend for some other friends originally. Figured this is a good way to share it in the future.  
> Warning! Non-Native speaker here! (But I hope you will enjoy this nonetheless!) 
> 
> The Prologue is mainly a mix of what Duncan and Varric say at the beginning of Origins and the Dragon Age Keep

“The Chantry teaches us that it is the hubris of men which brought the darkspawn into our world.  
The mages of Tevinter had sought to usurp Heaven,  
but instead, they destroyed it.  
They were cast out, twisted and cursed by their own corruption.  
They returned as monsters and as the first of the darkspawn, they became a blight upon the lands, unstoppable and relentless. 

Countless in number and toxic to all life, the darkspawn searched endlessly for one of the seven Old Gods, dormant beneath the earth, to twist and corrupt and eventually turn it into an Archdemon, to lead their forces.  
When they found the Old God Dumat, The Dragon of Silence, darkspawn armies surged up from their corrupted barrows -  
and the First Blight began.

The dwarven kingdoms were the first to fall.  
And from the deep roads, the darkspawn drove at us again and again, until finally we neared annihilation…

Until the Grey Wardens came.  
Men and women from every race; warriors and mages, barbarians and kings, the Grey Wardens sacrificed everything to stem the tide of darkness.  
And they prevailed.

Grey Wardens are the only warriors capable of destroying an Archdemon and history always honors the one who sacrifices all to kill the beast.  
During the Fifth Blight, in the Age of the Dragon, that Warden was the former king’s bastard,  
a common Fereldan named Agnes Theirin, half sister to King Matthew Theirin.

On Fort Drakon’s highest tower she fought at the side of the Hero of Ferelden in a final battle against the massive Archdemon Urthemiel.  
Warden Agnes paid the ultimate price: the life of a Grey Warden given to kill the Archdemon and end the Blight.

 

With no Archdemon to lead them, the darkspawn scattered.  
Most fled underground, still teeming in numbers and always seeking the next Old God to corrupt into an Archdemon.  
And so their circle began anew, now almost 25 years ago, only to be ended when all the Old Gods laid dead.  
But these are strange times for Thedas; times of great change.  
Change that may also affect the corrupted beneath the ground on their eternal quest to seek out the conductor of their sweet song and music.”


	2. The young Vashoth I

 

 

 

  
_“The demons who would be gods,_  
_began to whisper to men from their tombs beneath the earth_  
_And the men of Tevinter heard and raised altars_  
_To the pretender gods once more,_  
_And in return they were given, in hushed whispers,_  
_The secrets of darkest magic”_  
_\- Threnodies 5:11_

 

**“We’ve been here before, Kadan!“**

His words echoed throughout the dark, narrow caves and lost themselves somewhere along the way.

A sharp truth rang with them, one that was hard to admit after all this time. It had been hours, after all, since they had tried to find a new way to escape this maze of ways that seemingly led nowhere.

“I know.” She sighed exasperatedly. “Let’s rest for a bit… and then we’ll find a different way.“  
  
The young Tal-Vashoth dropped what they carried to the ground. It was not much – the longer they had wandered around, the more bothersome any extra baggage had become, so they had left it behind them, bit by bit. The only thing left was their backpack, and, of course, the bow and quiver filled with a handful of stained arrows. They were indispensable.  
  
“We’re gonna die here.”  
  
Even though he felt his strength falter with every draining hour they spent walking around and looking for food, water and a way out, he could not help but to argue with his sister. The fighting drained their power, too, however. They always had to be alert. His Kadan looked as if she was thinking hard, like she was trying to figure out how to deal with him.  
  
“Maybe.” She cleared her throat when her voice sounded rough. It did not help much, it seemed. “Maybe not.”  
  
This was not enough to convince him, though. He grimaced.  
  
“More like, ‘absolutely’.”  
  
When his sister did not reply to that, he turned his head to check up on her. She looked about as exhausted as he felt, and a little sickly as well. Only then did it occur to him that his negativity probably did not help, no matter how much he felt he was right. He grabbed his bow and sank to the ground.  
  
“Ya think I will have to kill more darkspawn?”  
  
“I really hope not.”  
  
They were seemingly everywhere in these caves. It was one of the reasons why they could not rest in one place for too long and had to stay on the move. A horde of darkspawn was too much for them to handle, so they hid from them in the narrow passageways along the way. Earlier (it was impossible to say when exactly without having the sun as a guide for time) two of them had ambushed the siblings just when they were hiding from a different group of darkspawn, but fortunately for them, they had been able to fight rather quickly and could flee before the others had become aware of what had happened. That was then. It felt like much time had passed, maybe even days since then, and when they were both being honest, they did not know whether they would have the strength to repeat what they had done before. It was a horrific thought, being killed by darkspawn, but just one of the many deaths that awaited them down in these caves, for their strength was already fading, slowly at first, but by now it seemed to go that much quicker.  
  
When his sister sat down next to him, she already looked frailer than she had just a few moments ago.  
  
“Kadan… we need water…” Her voice was still rough and there was a faint quiver in it, as if the actual fear of dehydration and death had just dawned upon her.

Without a doubt, it barely scratched the surface of what she was feeling in truth.  
  
“But there isn’t any.”, he insisted. “We have looked for it for days, I’m sure. No water, no food, no way out.”  
  
When he was saying it, he felt desperation creep up upon him as well.

 _There’s no hope for us, and we’ll just feel more and more exhausted._  
  
Just the thought of it was enough to make him question how strong-willed he actually was, when confronted with death itself. It was not the first time he felt this way, or was in a situation such as this. He still remembered the hot desert sands all around them, never ending, and such a deep-seated thirst, just like this one. They had been much younger then when they wandered the Western Approach, and it had seemed as if their life was just about to end, just like how it felt at this moment. But knowing that they had withstood every near-death experience they had faced before did not make this any easier.  
  
“And we probably won’t find any if we keep on sitting here, complaining about how we’re going to die.” She sighed again, wearily.  
  
He would have loved to throw back a retort at his sister, after all, it had been her who had suggested they should rest, and it was her that sounded like she was just about to collapse from exhaustion, but he kept his silence. Something had just gotten his attention.  
  
He heard faint grunts and a familiar shriek. The sound of the shuffling of feet, wandering aimlessly throughout the passage.  
  
_Darkspawn._  
  
They were close, and getting even closer.  
  
His hand touched his Kadan’s shoulder, to make sure she was just as alert of what was happening as he was. The alarmed look on her face told him enough.  
  
Without another word, he got up as fast as he could, his bow still in hand, preparing it by taking two arrows out of his quiver.  
  
The noises came from the direction from which they had just come moments before, so they moved further ahead, as quickly as they dared, and as silent as they were able to.  
Judging by the sound level of the darkspawn, there seemed to be more than one; he heard different kind of grunts, grunts that happened at the same time, and the steps of more than one pair of feet, limping at a slow pace, but never stopping, and always ahead. A fight was out of the question, for neither of them had any strength left to fight more than one creature (if one was viable at all, really), so they had no chance but to flee and hide, as they had done so many times before.  
  
They kept going forward and managed to keep the darkspawn from getting too close to them, more or less. It was clear as day (if it was day at all) that they could not keep this up, however. His legs were starting to feel weak, his bow was shaking just as much as the hands holding it and he felt like he would collapse right on the spot if they did not stop and rest once again.  
  
He was so absent-minded that he did not even notice when his sister turned right. It was only when she grabbed his arm forcibly and jerked him to her side that he took full notice. They were in a side passageway now. It was even narrower than the normal ones, but as opposed to those, he could actually see an end to it: it was right before them; rocks, rubble and dirt, blocking the way and thus preventing anyone from moving along. For a moment, there was nothing but his racing pulse and his heart, pounding rapidly and loudly, again and again and again against his chest. He felt dizzy.  
Quickly, they cowered into the darkest corners of the heap of rubble, silently, and always listening. The grunts were closer again. He closed his eyes. Another loud shriek. His head felt as if it was about to burst open. They were so loud, it seemed like they were standing right next to him. But still, if he could just rest for a while…. maybe that would not be so bad…  
  
Exhaustion crept over him. His body went limp and leant against the cold, sharp rocks.

 

When he woke up again, he was shaking - and being shaken. His Kadan stood above him, her fingers clutched into his shoulders, apparently trying to wake him. It had worked.  
  
“Stooop!” He wanted to say it sharply and annoyed, but what came out of his mouth was soft and weak.  
  
“Let go of me.”  
  
“You’re awake!” She breathed heavily and loosened her grip. “I thought you would…. you have no idea what a relief this is….”  
  
Her expression changed from worried to slightly annoyed when she suddenly poked her finger against his chest. “Don’t just fall asleep, moron!”  
  
“What even happened?”  
  
His head was still hurting, and being shaken had not helped. He did not know how much time had passed, but it probably had not been long, for he still felt as weak as he had before, and still as sleepy.  
  
“We were hiding from the darkspawn, that’s what happened. And then you just fell asleep. They’re gone now. I’ve been trying to wake you up….”  
  
“Maybe falling asleep and not waking up anymore wouldn’t be such a bad thing…”, he muttered.  
  
“Don’t say that!” A flush of red appeared on her pale and haggard face. “Or you know what? Go to sleep if you’ve given up, because I’ve found a way out of here and I’m gonna use it. I just thought you might want to as well.”  
  
She turned away from him and faced the wall of rubble.  
  
That certainly got his attention. He sat up and looked at the back of her head.  
  
“You found a way? Are you sure?”  
  
“No…”, she admitted. “But I saw a light through here, I’m sure of it. And these rocks are loose, so we just have to put a few on the side to get through.”  
  
“A light….” He seemed sceptical. “What kind of light? Daylight?”  
  
“I don’t know, okay? I just saw it briefly. Look, just help me, then we can see for ourselves.”  
  
And with that, he got up. Now that he was inspecting the wall more closely, he could see that she had already been doing quite a bit of work herself, for there was a pile next to it consisting of rocks of all sizes. He walked closer to be able to stand next to her and watched her. She looked worn out herself, worried, and exhausted. Her paleness and the dark circles under her eyes gave her a ghostly look. There was something off about her neck as well. The grief she had caused him and the strain of this work must have worsened it for her just as much as everything up until now had done it to him.  
  
“How are you feeling?”, he asked awkwardly.  
  
She coughed. When she spoke, she sounded almost angry again.  
  
“Less asking questions. More rock-shifting.”  
  
There was concern on both of their faces, but they left it at that. The sooner they got out of this place, the better, after all. He grabbed a rock from the wall and tossed it over to the pile. They carried on this way, and while some rocks were indeed very loose and could easily be removed, others had to be loosened one way or another. First, he tried with his fingers, then with kicking it, but it finally gave way when he loosened it a bit by scratching the cracks with one of his arrows. He hoped they would not attract any darkspawn, for they could not avoid causing a lot of noise. The big rocks had to be lifted by both of them, they were massive and heavy, and neither of them were anywhere near being strong enough for such a task anymore. It was exhausting, and they took several breaks so that they would be able to finish what they had started without spending all of the strength they had left at once.  
  
It was during one of these breaks that he glared at the wall of rubble, already selecting the next rock that he would get his hands on. They had already done much - there was a hole in the wall already, it just was not big enough for them to climb through yet. He anticipated that it would not take them a long time now, though. The hardest parts had already been done. And when they were that far, they would be able to see if there was anything to this light that his Kadan had seen before. The more time passed, the more he doubted she ever saw something in the first place. She was not feeling well, after all, it might have been something she had seen in some kind of delirious state. But still, it was better than realising they were wasting their time on yet another dead end.  
  
Then he saw it too. Through the hole, there was a faint, sickly green to be seen, though barely noticeable and just a mere reflection on the rocky surface of the walls.  
  
“Kadan!”, he yelled. “Is that the light you saw?”  
  
After turning her head in surprise to look in the same direction, she could affirm his assumption by nodding eagerly. “That’s it!” They both got to their feet with more enthusiasm than they had had just a moment ago.  
  
“Let’s get to it.”  
  
So they continued their work, always with an eye on the hole, just to see if the light was still there and carried off rock by rock. Of course, it still took them longer than they had anticipated, but eventually, they had enlarged the hole enough for them to climb through.  
  
First, they shoved their supplies and weapons through, so that they would already be there when they followed, then he went, with annoyed muttering from his sister behind him. He could not catch everything that she was saying, but it was all in her hectic “hurry up” voice, so he made haste and climbed through the hole as fast as he could. Still, this sudden annoyance seemed strange, so he regarded her with a puzzled expression as she followed him.  
  
“What’s going on with you?”  
  
The circles under her eyes were somehow darker now, he noticed. And there was still something about her neck that was different from the way it was otherwise, too. Just as much as the area around her eyes, it seemed more... blackish to him.  
  
She made a disgusted noise when she was on the other side of the wall, but ignored his question.  
  
“Do you smell that?”  
  
It was a distraction from his original question, of course, but now that she mentioned it, he could not help but smell it as well, a nauseating malodour that made him gag. Luckily for him, his stomach had been empty for some time now, so there was nothing of substance he would have spit up, if it came to that. Still, the odour was nearly impossible to stand, so he quickly picked up their things so that they could go along.  
  
“Urgh. What is that.”, was all he commented, as he reached down to grab his bow.  
  
But when his fingers clasped around the wood, they touched something on which his bow had lain on, something soft, cold and slippery. Quickly, he withdrew his hand and looked down in horror at what he had just touched.  
  
It was a dead fish, lying on the cave’s ground and already rotting for quite some time, by the looks of it, along with dried algae. When he looked around, he saw that their entire way was paved with algae, shells and occasionally fish, just like the one he had just touched. They were accompanied by the green light he and his Kadan had seen before; torches of green fire were roaming the passageway’s walls. It was hard to say what captured his interest more, but in the end, the malodour was just far too distracting for him to be paying attention to anything else.  
  
“Okay, now I know.”, he managed to say before he covered his mouth.  
  
The stench from the rotten carcasses was unbearable. They had to move along, and quickly, no matter how much he wanted to rest again.  
  
“What are all these fish doing here…”, his Kadan wondered aloud.  
  
She looked around and moved along after her brother had started to walk, slowly and carefully, as to not step on any wrong spot. He just shrugged. His hand was still on his mouth, and he was struggling with the task of avoiding to step on any of the carcasses, moving ahead quickly and not collapsing again.  
  
“There must have been water here. Everywhere…” , she continued when she did not get an answer.  
  
There was a faint noise coming from her, it sounded like she wanted to gulp but was not able to. He supposed that her mouth was just as dry as his one.  
  
They went further, and straight ahead, but their pace was slowing more and more. By now, he had given up on covering his mouth, though neither of them talked much anymore. They had to save up their left strength, after all, and it was hard enough as it was. Luckily for them, there had not been any noises to suggest darkspawn nearby. The young Tal-Vashoth supposed that, like his sister had said, this part of the caves had been underwater until recently and that they had exposed the only linkage leading to this area. Not one of these things had followed behind... Yet. Maybe they did not like the stench, either.  
  
_Although I’d prefer rotten fish to darkspawn stench anytime_ , he thought grimly.  
  
It was hardly a comfort next to their big amount of problems, but it made him feel safer for the moment, and the idea of actually making it out of these caves was starting to feel less absurd. Surely the water must’ve come and gone from somewhere, he supposed. If they hurried and found puddles or another source of water, they would have a fair chance. The newly-found will to survive made him speed up a little. When he looked back he saw his Kadan, slowly falling back behind him, as she could not pick up the pace he had just gotten into. A wave of guilt swept over him. He probably should not have gone so fast all of a sudden.  
  
“I think we could make it now, Kadan. Just hang in there for some more time, alright? We haven’t been here before, that’s a good sign” Speaking still hurt his throat, but his Kadan looked like she was in desperate need of the same confidence boost he had just experienced.  
  
She nodded weakly, facing the ground.  
  
“Yes…”  
  
He continued his way throughout the tunnel, his hands holding bow and a handful of arrows close, just in case. After quite a few minutes, his nose had grown accustomed to the stench around them. He still felt dizzy though. The greenly-lit torches grew in numbers now and somehow, it felt as if they were getting closer to their way out. For a faint second the Tal-Vashoth thought that he could hear his sister humming, but when he looked back, she was just a few metres behind, silent and facing the ground, just as she had before. His head turned around and he was facing ahead once again. With every step he took, something inside of him reached out more. Ahead… Ahead… Soon. His steps became easier, everything became easier to him. Surely his Kadan felt it, too.  
  
“Beautiful…”, he could hear her mutter now, “...Truly… What a nice song.”  
  
“Song…?”  
  
First, she did not answer, but then she finally looked up and smiled faintly.  
  
“Just… Listen, Kadan.”, she said calmly.  
  
He stopped and turned to look at one of the torches. There was something soothing about the flame.  
It had a different quality about it from normal fire… so much more peaceful, somehow. Maybe it was a special kind of magic? Then, for a split second, he thought he heard it too. A music out of this world, the celestial music of a god. And although he had just heard it faintly, he was sure that he had never before listened to something remotely as beautiful as that sound. Could his sister still hear it? He felt envy rising up inside his heart, but he had to carry on.  
  
“We’ll be there soon.”, he said.  
  
And yes, there was a passage into a small hall, just at the end of the tunnel. Whatever they needed to survive now, it would be in there. He just knew it. When he approached the arch separating the passageway from the hall, he suddenly felt a firm grip on his shoulder. With a gasp he turned around, only to see his sister, his Kadan faint to the ground with dull impact. She had tried to support herself against her brother’s shoulder, but slipped and fell down.  
  
“Kadan!” Instantly, his mind was clear again. He rushed down next to her to support her neck,  
  
“Kadan, are you hurt?”  
  
She groaned in pain. Her body was tense and she clenched her fists. When her eyes opened, his heart was skipping a beat, and the whole world slowed down for just one moment. Her normally greenish eyes were now a pale, grey color and beneath them, the circles had turned pitch-black.  
  
“I- I don’t understand… What’s….”, he murmured. His voice was trembling.  
  
“It’s… inside… It hurts… It’s everywhere… like sludge…. It hurts, Kadan…”  
  
“I still- I can’t- … Please… What’s happening to you?!” His whole body began to shake.  
  
He could see the black veins on her hands, neck and face. Was this the sickness that the darkspawn spread?  
  
“Look, I’ll carry you, it’s not far now, I know it.”  
  
“So loud… Help…” She let out a dreadful whimper.  
  
The young Vashoth sniveled and tried to lift his sister a little off the ground. He then pressed on into the hall, while heaving her with him. The answer had to be near. It had to be right there. His whole body was still trembling as he looked around. The room was smaller than he had thought it would be and there was absolutely nothing in here except for a statue right in the middle. But instead of it being a discouragement, this statue seemed like the one, clear answer. It was easy. His mind was hazy like a pond in the morning hours and yet, this one thing was crystal clear. As he approached it he realised that it was in fact not a statue but some kind of basin. The stone figurine of a High Dragon wrapped its whole body around the base, up to the basin itself. Its eye sockets were empty but now and then, a drop of liquid fell into the little pool below its snout. The sides of the stone basin were decorated with several carved images whose meanings the young Vashoth did not care for. Cautiously, he tried to get a better view of what was inside the bowl by craning his neck a little more. He could hardly believe what his eyes were seeing.  
  
“Kadan, there’s lots of water in it!”, he exclaimed, and leant her against the base of the strange basin.  
  
She just groaned with her eyes half closed and breathed flatly.  
  
Without further ado, he reached for his backpack and, after a short search, pulled forth a cup made of tin. It was then used on the basin itself, while he supported himself on the edge of the basin and filled the cup until it was full. When he went to his knees to be next to his sister, he saw that she had not moved at all.  
  
“This will help.” He was sure of it.  
  
There was hardly any reaction to his words, however, so he took the cup directly to her mouth instead of handing it to her. He held it to her lips, poured it into her mouth and, much to his relief, saw her swallow. After a short pause, he continued, until the cup was empty. With a look of expectancy, he waited for a reaction. It came in the form of coughing and loud breathing, which, luckily, did not sound as flat as it had before. She looked at him, visibly worn out.  
  
“That was good.”  
  
Hearing her say that was a relief, and a confirmation of his presumption as well. He gave her a weak smile and got to his feet again. There was a craving inside of him; the longer he waited with drinking from the water himself, the more it became unbearable for him. Once again, he was bent over the basin but this time, he used his hands as a cup, so that could drink as soon as possible.  
  
“Stop!”, his sister croaked. “Give me all of it.”

She coughed.

“I need the rest. Where is it?”  
  
His irritated look went from her to the water in his hands.  
  
“Are you kidding?” It was a serious question, as he indeed could not tell if his sister was joking or not.  
  
Since she sounded serious, that was what he assumed, but what she was asking was incomprehensible. He needed that water just as much as she did, after all, if not even more, now that she had already drunk from it. He needed it right now and then.  
  
“No! Give it to me!” This time, she sounded angrier, and even more demanding.  
  
“Sorry, Kadan.”, he said cooly. “I need to drink too, y’know?”  
  
And with that, he raised his hands to his mouth and swallowed the water they were holding.  
  
The feeling of finally having water run down his throat again was overwhelmingly good and for a second, he was shaken, before he filled his hands again with water, just to feel it again and again. He drank it all, until there was nothing left. His sister had tried to prevent him from doing it, but when it had been done, she had just stopped protesting and fallen silent. He supposed that she might have had realised her mistake after all.  
  
He took a deep breath.  
  
But instead of feeling incredibly well, like he had thought he would feel, he was suddenly starting to feel anxious.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
_No._  
  
No, no, no…

His hands reached up to his head. He should not have drunk that water. With a look of horror in his eyes, he looked at his Kadan, who was watching him closely.  
  
She knows.  
  
He was not whole. And neither was she.  
  
His legs grew weak, and he fell to the ground. The room around him began to blur. There were hushed whispers, and he could not make out the words they were saying, whoever seemed to be talking. And there was music - he recognised the sound, but it had lost all of its beauty. It was just music - nothing more and nothing less.  
  
When he turned his head back up to the basin, he thought he saw something move, the creature from the tales their mother had told them, huge and mighty and spitting fire, that had to be a real dragon. It blinked at him. He blinked back, then it was still.  
  
He heard his sister scream and turned his head towards her. Something black was oozing from her mouth, she was writhing in pain.  
  
All he wanted was to reach out to her, help her, but he felt darkness creep over him again. The only thing left for him to do was watch her flail and scream in agony.


	3. Gabriele I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We move on from the POV of a frantic Vashoth boy to the POV of a brassy dwarf who leads her small band of trusty companions.
> 
> Enjoy!

  
_“Join us, brothers and sisters._  
_Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant.”_ _  
_ \- the Joining

  


**Warden Commander Gabriele Aeducan had expected complications.  
** **  
** Not because she was a particularly pessimistic dwarf but because she simply knew from experience that nothing on this mission went downright perfectly the way it was planned. At first, there were darkspawn. Lots of them. Admittedly not the most difficult task for a Grey Warden but fighting wave after wave of these tainted, smelly creatures grew tiresome quickly. And she was not the youngest anymore either. Their blood magic ritual had triggered the mechanism to drain the secret passageways under Lake Calenhad. That those passageways would in fact be part of the Deep Roads had not been expected, however, so the darkspawn had been somewhat of a surprise to her and her companions.

And after they had cleared what felt like kilometres of dwarven tunnels they had found the fire.

It was unlike any fire Gabriele had ever seen. She and her companions felt unwell around it. It was nothing more than a feeling of unease but it was enough to make August Tabris, the elf, flip his shit after their mage and healer, Rudolph Cousland, took a torch with him, saying that he would like to investigate it further. There had not been much time for Tabris to complain and pray to his Maker though, as they soon found the chamber they had been looking for all those years. And what they found was not what they had been promised. No, it really was far from that.

The sight of Rudolph trying to clean all that black goo off the horned Qunari girl’s face and shirt almost spoiled the Warden Commander’s appetite. **  
**  
Almost.  
  
She took a big bite of her dried beef slice. Luckily, she was not a wimp.  
        
Her gaze went from examining the redheaded mage, over to August, who was still  struggling to set up his tent. He did not look happy; but then again, when did he ever look happy?  
       
“Need a  hand, Tabris?”, she offered.  
        
The young elf didn’t answer at first but let out a weak little sigh, lowering the leather flysheet in his slender hands. It ate away on him; this whole day. Gabriele understood that, she was upset as well, they all were. Years of planning, researching and putting themselves in danger just to have it ruined by some thirsty qunari kids? It would’ve been hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.  
        
“No…..”, he said surely but then sighed just one second later, “...I mean...Yes, Commander. Thanks.”  
        
“Tabris, Tabris. Don’t think about it too much.”, she stuffed the rest of the beef slice into her mouth and stood up, walking over to her helpless fellow Warden.  
  
Together they lifted the flysheet up, over the tent. She glanced over at Rudolph. This would’ve been a better job for him rather than the small dwarf and elf. But who was she to interrupt Mr. Mage from collecting smelly black goo from an unconscious horned child? It surely was of the utmost importance.  
          
“I’m sure the Vint will tell us what to do.”, she prodded.  
          
“He sure _tells_ an awful lot, yes.”, Tabris instantly replied.    
          
“Now, now enough with that pouty face and the sarcasm. We’ve come this far. There’ll be a way. Maybe we’ll have to collect some qunari-piss. That would certainly not be the most difficult task we had on our mission.”  
         
August remained silent and just nodded. Then he proceeded to ram some pegs into the ground, to secure the tent. Did she just see him grinding his teeth?  
         
Recent developments were unfortunate, she gave him that much. It was also not the first time she saw August Tabris drive into despair. He had never had the most positive attitude. Kind of unhealthy for such a young one, since his Joining was just 8 years ago, he still had at least 20 years left to live and find a cure to the Calling. She herself came to feel it over the past two years already. She felt how the taint slowly took over her body, how it made her blood feel heavy, thick and boiling hot on some days. She had 3 years left, at best, before she would have to go on her Calling. But knowing they were close gave her confidence, even now when it did not go the way they had planned originally. If there was one thing Gabriele Aeducan learned during her time as Grey Warden and Hero of Ferelden, it was that there was always more than just one way. They would find a cure for the Taint, and they would do so before she bit the dust.  
       
 “My boots are soaked with blood.” , August declared while they were making their way back to the campfire, where Rudolph Cousland was still busy with the children.  
        
“No wonder. Sodding Darkspawn were everywhere”, she replied and sat down next to her sleeping Mabari dog named Bemme.  
         
“Don’t you think it’s unusual?”  
         
“Darkspawn in the Deep Roads ‘unusual’ ? Yeah… You’re right, Tabris. Almost as unusual as me changing my underwear.”  
          
“Oh Maker, no. I’m serious.”  
          
“Last time I checked the Deep Roads were where they lived.”, she reminded him with a smirk.  
           
Rudolph cleared his throat and seemed to want to join in on the conversation.  
           
“These parts had been submerged for ages. I found it curious, too. How did they manage to get there this fast? Even faster than us?”, he riddled.  
           
“Maybe it really was that dragon that called to them. If we ought to believe what the Vint decoded for us, an Old God could be near? Shame that Weisshaupt won’t let us look at the maps...”, Tabris replied.  
           
“And how was that fire lit even though, the tunnels had been under water? These are all excellent questions and we should really investigate this further. Did you also notice how there were no darkspawn near the fire?”

“That’s because that fire is sodding creepy. Staying away from it is smart of the darkspawn. And we should do so too if you ask me.”, It seemed August was still scared of the green flames Rudolph had collected from the walls.     
           
Gabi was no chicken, she wasn’t scared of much, but yes, she too had to admit that the flames gave her a bad feeling to be around. They seemed dangerous and deadly. Cousland thought the fire was magic, but how was it magic when she, a dwarf, could feel it, too? Usually dwarves were immune to magic and they couldn’t dream in the Fade either, so feeling this fire’s might near her felt wrong.  
           
Rudolph scraped off the rest of the filth on the qunari’s face. Now that it was clean, they could clearly see the black veins on her neck and cheek; an indicator that the girl was infected with the taint. People could catch the taint when they came in contact with darkspawn. It was a very common reaction, for they poisoned the land they walked on with every drop of blood they spilled. Those infected would turn into petty creatures called ghouls and become slaves to the darkspawn. The men would make them armor and weapons and the women were turned into broodmothers to give birth to more and more darkspawn, so that their numbers could dwell. They could not leave that girl to such a cruel fate.

“She’s tainted. Unless we want her to make some baby ogres for the next Blight we should end her. Poor girl. I don’t know how fast these oxmen grow but she seems young.”  
             
Tabris nodded, “Poor thing.”, he said, “We could try if the Joining would work on her though.”  
           
 Rudolph made a weird noise after August’s words. Both, Gabi and Tabris looked at him.  
            
“Do you have something to add, Cousland? Go on, share your thoughts.”, she said in a tone that suggested that this was not the first time they had to tease an opinion out of the mage.  
           
“I propose that we wait.”, he said and looked at his Commander.  
            
She snorted.

            
She wasn’t particularly fond of letting a child undergo the joining but usually in situations like this it was unwise to waste whatever time they had.  
            
“ _Wait_ ?”  
            
“Rudi, if we wait not even the Maker could save her. She’ll be beyond help.”, Tabris seemed agitated.  
             
The mage shook his head and sighed as if he had to think on what to say next carefully. Eventually he took a deep breath and proceeded to explain in his usual calm voice:  
             
“Something about both of them is odd. Yes, she is tainted but I believe that is not the entirety of it. We can’t imagine what powers are at work here. We simply do not know enough about what happened to them and why the water we were supposed to collect was gone. Do we know for sure why they were right there at that time? Do we know what might be happening inside of them? What kind of magic is at work? Why haven’t they woken up yet? As for injuries I could find nothing but scratched knees and hands, likely from a small fall. But nothing implied that they were injured gravely enough to pass out this long. If the girl has turned into a ghoul, she should be up by now, seeking out darkspawn to serve. But she isn’t.”  
        
Rudolph was usually not much of a talker although his advice on matters of the arcane was much welcome for Gabriele, since she, as a dwarf, knew a rat’s ass about magic. When her Warden Enchanter considered all of this important, she usually believed him but now she wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.  
         
“And that means…?”, she asked, waving her hand a little.  
          
The mage glanced at the qunari girl before he answered.  
          
“I believe something is holding their minds in the Fade and they can’t wake up.”

          
“So you’re saying they’re just dreaming?”, Tabris sighed and wrinkled his nose, carefully unwrapping the cloth that was holding his personal food rations.  
  
He placed them on his knees before selecting a slice of the dried meat and slowly leading it up to his mouth. He just took a small bite before putting it back again.  
          
“If you will, yes. But I believe there is more to it. Something is hindering them from going back, from waking up. Something that is probably inside the fade.”, Rudolph’s words were always hard to grasp for Gabriele.  
           
“Don’t tell me they’re not only tainted but also possessed by demons. Because if that’s the case I’m not sticking around until they wake up. If they’re possessed I say we kill them now that we still have the chance.”, August said with his most serious face.    
           
Finally Gabriele understood what this was all about.  
           
“Ohh, it’s a sloth demon! I’ve met one of those before, back when Rudi was a little squit at the Circle. That was during the Blight, we were trying to convince the mages to join the fight against the archdemon. Wasn’t particularly nice though. That demon dumped me and my guys right into the Fade.”  
          
The incident at the Circle was now almost 25 years ago but Gabriele’s memories of that day were still clear and lively. One did not forget their first time in the Fade after all. Admittedly, it had been a strange and less than unpleasant experience which she was eager not to repeat ever again, but nonetheless, it had been interesting.  
          
“Wasn’t far from here actually.”, she continued.  
           
They camped near Lake Calenhad, on which the Circle of Magi had called the tower of Kinloch Hold their home in Ferelden, before the mage rebellion had started and dissolved the circle 14 years ago. Now the tower served as a college for young mages of the Bright Hand, the reformed circle. For ten years at minimum a mage had to learn at the Bright Hand’s numerous colleges or boarding schools until he could go back to his own life. More or less. At the end of those ten years they would undergo their Harrowing - they’d have to fight a demon and either succeed or die. A foul and sad remnant from Circle of Magi times. But back when Gabriele was young and a spick and span Warden recruit during the Fifth Blight, 25 years ago, the circle had been active there.

After King Matthew Theirin’s crushing defeat at Ostagar Gabriele and a human named Agnes had been the only surviving Wardens left in Ferelden. Their commander and the rest of the Wardens fell against the darkspawn hordes and so it fell to them to find a way to slay the archdemon Urthemiel. With Ferelden’s king on his deathbed and a stirring Civil War, this was no easy task. In ancient ruins of the Korcari Wilds they had found old treaties that ensured them certain allies whose help was direly needed to battle the Blight: The dwarves of Orzammar, the Circle of Magi and the Dalish Elves.

Arriving at Kinloch Hold to conscript the mages they were met by a closed door to the main hall of the tower and panicking templars in front of it. A blood mage had unleashed demons upon the tower and was turning the mages into abominations against their will. The templars, taken by surprise, suffered many casualties before they could retreat to the entrance hall and seal the door leading to the rest of the tower, trapping the surviving mages and even some of their own templars with the demons and abominations inside. When Gabriele and Agnes arrived the templars were awaiting word from Denerim for the Right of Annulment, granting them permission to blow up the circle tower, killing everything in it. Convinced that there were still innocent survivors inside and with the firm intention to save as many as possible, Gabi and Agnes entered the dangerous tower at their own risk. Very soon, they found many of the subsisting mages - mostly children - guarded by a protective magical barrier casted by Senior Enchanter Wynne. Gabriele later found out that Rudi had been among the children they had saved back then and that he came to the Wardens during the mage rebellion because he remembered that deed.

After making sure that the children and few older mages were safe, Gabi and Agnes teamed up with Wynne to find First Enchanter Irving, rid the tower of the demons and slay the blood mage who had caused this mess. On their way to the top of the tower, the number of dead bodies, both of  templars and of mages, rose into hundreds, not a sight Gabriele would soon forget. Before they could reach the Harrowing chamber however, in which the blood mage was turning the remaining mages into abominations, they walked into the trap of a Sloth demon who put them to sleep on the spot, sending their minds into the Fade to get lost forever.

She could remember the Fade as a place where one could easily lose their mind, everything seemed false and yet so real. And she remembered the big silhouette of what they called the Black City, always on the horizon no matter where she’d go. When she had escaped the demon’s ploy, she felt relieved to be back. If the matter hadn’t been so grave she probably would’ve kissed the damn stone floor.  
          
Rudi’s voice startled her from her thoughts.  
          
“It.... _Could_ be actually. I’d lie if I said I could rule out the possibility of demon possession. However I believe this is something different. And even if this is a demon’s work-”  
          
“Oh no, Rudi please don’t say what I think you will.”, August interrupted him.  
          
“- there is still another way to get rid of it, since it hasn’t taken over their bodies yet.”  
          
“Yes, very reassuring.”, the elf groaned, rolling his green eyes.  
          
“What are you trying to suggest, Cousland?”, Gabriele asked.

If they’d let Rudi talk more now, he’d go on and on about it for the whole night, she thought.  
          
“I suggest I enter the Fade and try to connect to their realm of dreams.”  
          
“Why would you do that?”  
           
Tabris groaned again. He seemed way too fed up with his companions. But Rudolph and Gabi disregarded him, continuing their conversation.  
            
“If there’s a demon at work, I could… Eliminate it. And if it’s not a demon, what I estimate is much more likely, I can still find out what is troubling them. Either way, we need to find out what happened and I am also eager to help them heal. I believe it will be much easier to shed some light on what happened at the Deep Roads before we found them, if I try to search in the Fade for answers. There would also be spirits to guide and help-”  
             
“Maker’s balls, you and your spirits!”, August jumped up, shaking, “Spirits, demons. Nothing good will come from that, mark my words!”  
             
“Now now, Tabris, don’t make a scene. You worry too much. What are you so scared of?”, Gabi asked, rubbing the happily drooling Bemme behind the ears.  
            
“What am I scared of? That’s easy to ask for a dwarf!”, the elf walked up and down in front of the campfire, raising his arms and sighing loudly.

           
“I just- I. I don’t like this. This has taken a turn for the worse. First it was just ‘Let’s find a cure to the taint in this ancient ruin’, then you invite the Vint and his snarky companions to Vigil’s Keep and they dig around in our libraries and stores and perform their blighted blood magic right where we live! And now _this_ !”, he pointed at the qunari kids, “This is not what I imagined, this- I just- I- …. I didn’t want _this_ . We’ve lost our way, Commander. This is not right. Maybe this was never right...”  
            
August sank down next to the fire again. He huffed slightly as he stared into the flames. Neither Gabriele nor Rudi could answer him, they just exchanged some glances. For a few seconds there was silence and only the crackling of the fire disturbed it. Then finally, Gabriele opened her mouth:  
         
“We could... play a game of Wicked Grace if it will calm you, Tabris. We can use the cards you painted.”  
           
The elf huffed again but then looked down to the ground and nodded.  
His outbursts had become more frequent as of late and yes, to an extend, Gabi could understand. She too was worried and disappointed in recent outcomes and events, but they could not stop. Not now, that they had come so far. The cure was within reach, she just knew it.  
         
“If it is any comfort to you… I have done this before. Several times actually. I am very confident that it will work”, Rudi tried again.  
         
“No. No, that is no comfort to me, actually.”, August hissed back.  
          
Gabi sighed. _What to do with these idiots?_  
         
“Go take a nap, Cousland. Go into the Fade, see what you can do. And by the ancestors, try to save these foolish kids.”, she said in a determined tone, “I’ll take care of Tabris in the meantime.”  
         
“Thanks, Commander. I will try not to disappoint.”, with these words Rudolph got up and made his way to his tent, probably to prepare his weird dreamer stuff.  
          
Gabriele looked at Tabris. The glance he returned said more than anything. He was sad and angry and scared, like so often. She hesitated at first but then placed her hand on his back, to give him a small but sturdy rub. The elf just sighed for what felt like the 20th time this evening. He would not complain now, since his Warden Commander had made her choice. However, he still greatly disapproved. She knew that she was putting him through strong measures at the moment, but in the end it would all pay off. Their hard work would bear fruit, as soon as they had figured out what was going on with the qunari children, they could find the cure to the darkspawn taint. They could maybe even cure the blight itself, making the people resistant and hindering the darkspawn from breeding. If that meant using a little bit of blood magic, safe blood magic - how the Vint mage called it - it was fine with Gabi.  
          
Rudolph Cousland returned from his tent with a bedroll and an old lamp, in which he had put the head of the green-fire torch he had collected from the walls in the Deep Roads. As soon as they had tried to light another torch with it, the newly lit one seemed just like normal fire. No cold green flames, no strange feelings about it. Cousland was probably thinking of going back into the Deep Roads to get more green-fire torches, but she wouldn’t allow it. They had lost enough time already.

August flinched at the sight of the lantern and Gabi felt its presence creeping through her skin, faintly pulling on her veins.  
          
“Put it out. It’s evil. We can all feel it!”, August exclaimed and swiped off the sweat on his forehead, “Commander, see reason. At least on this matter. Please.”

 _He is right. It doesn’t feel right at all._ __  
  
“Should anything go unexpectedly wrong…”, Rudolph started, “...It is important that you take the fire to Zinovia.”

“ _The Vint_ ? Andraste’s tits! What is this madness!”, Tabris looked at Gabi flabbergasted, as if the mage had lost his mind completely now.  
           
This time she felt as if she really had to intervene.  
          
“I don’t know about that, Cousland. Even I can feel that this fire is no good. It’s sodding creepy, I give Tabris that much. Feels wrong.”, she said, raising a brow.  
          
But Rudolph shook his head.  
          
“I know, it seems strange, I can feel it too. But I believe it’s just somehow reacting to the taint in our blood. That’s why it feels unpleasant. It’s reacting to the corruption inside of us. Wolfgang will know what to make of it. This is important.”  
          
“No. Put it out.”, August suddenly stood up, grabbing his cup of water.  
          
Rudolph made no effort to stop him, as Tabris poured the content over the little flame inside the lamp. It flickered briefly but kept burning.  
          
“It burns in water.”, Rudolph said.  
          
“...It what now…”, Tabris stared at the flames as if they were manifested evil.  
          
“The flame burns underwater, that’s why the torches were lit when we arrived in the deep roads. For all we know it could’ve been burning for centuries.”, Rudolph glanced at Gabi, “Don’t put it out. I know it will be important.”  
           
She was unsure and she had a really bad feeling about this. She wanted to trust him but her gut told her not to. At least on this matter.  
           
August Tabris had given up and he had returned to his place by the campfire, as far away from Rudi as possible.  
          
“I will think about it, Cousland.”  
          
“Thank you.”

 

 

  
  
After Rudolph had started his ritual and fell asleep next to the qunari, hopefully entering the Fade. The mage was just twitching occasionally now. Should anything go wrong and should they see him turn into a demon or an abomination, they had given their word to slay him on the spot. This was the kind of risk dreamers had to live with apparently.  
         
August had calmed down a little. They were now playing the promised game of Wicked Grace with the elf’s handpainted cards and as always August was dealing a mean hand. He wasn’t the best fighter and frankly, a pansy but when it came to playing cards, even the sneakiest crow of Antiva had nothing on him.  
         
“Are you sure you’re not actually from Rialto and some shady cutthroat dropped you off at Denerim’s alienage?”, she asked, waiting for him to deal the next hand, “I’m just glad I don’t play over real sovereigns anymore”  
          
The elf laughed visibly amused. He always grinned like an idiot when he won. And he always won.  
          
“Pardon me, Commander but it’s not me. It’s just you who’s really bad at this.”  
          
“Ah shut your mouth ya nughumper. Me and every single Warden at Vigil’s Keep then?”, she grinned.  
          
“Exactly.”, he answered smugly while dealing out the cards.  
         
Suddenly they could hear a groan coming from the qunari girl. Gabriele and August both twitched around and the elf even jumped up, pale white and every trace of  the complacent grin gone. The qunari boy groaned too.  
         
“Woah!”, August whined and pointed a shaky finger at the horned kid, “I- I think he moved!”  
          
Gabriele grabbed her sword and stood up. There was no time for Wicked Grace now, she couldn’t know what would happen once these kids had woken up.  
          
“Pull yourself together, Tabris!”, she shouted at the elf.  
           
He too reached for his sword and together they positioned themselves above the qunari, ready to strike them down, should a demon crawl out of their eyeballs or something. The boy indeed seemed to regain his consciousness. He shuffled around in his bedroll, clenching his fists and grimacing with his eyes still closed. Then after half a minute or so, he finally blinked and let out another groan.  
           
“..dan…”, he mumbled, “...Kadan…”  
           
“He’s talking qunari.”, Gabi said, “He seems harmless, Tabris, get him some water, I’ll be on guard.”  
          
August hesitated but nodded and shuffled away to go fetch the waterskin from his backpack. Gabi examined the qunari more closely. The young boy seemed to wake up more and more now. After a while he even glanced up at Gabriele for a brief moment.  
        
“Kadan…? Mage..?”, he whispered weakly.  
         
August kneeled next to him, trying to put the waterskin to his lips. And as soon as the boy realised that there was water, he grabbed the leather of the waterskin with a firm grip and drank. He drank everything, like a horse in the Western Approach dying of thirst. With every gulp he seemed to grow stronger and soon after the waterskin was empty, the boy was able to sit up. His light, almost white hair hung over his sweaty forehead in thin streaks. He huffed a few times, neither looking at Gabriele nor August.  
        
“You okay, kid?”, Gabi broke the silence.  
          
At first, the qunari did not respond. Then he lifted his shoulders and said faintly:  
          
“No.”      
          
That was right before the other qunari, the girl, began to gurgle in an abnormal tone.  
          
“Okay, _that_ does not sound healthy.”, Gabi said and turned at the girl.  
          
“I-I-Is she turning?”, August gasped and stepped over her, his sword in a firm grip.  
           
In that moment a huge load of black goo spurted out of the qunari girl’s mouth, splattering all over the elf’s clothes and armor. He screamed and fell back right on his butt, swinging his sword through the air.  
          
“Kill it! Kill it!”  
          
“Tabris, calm down! Calm the fuck down. You’re gonna hurt someone!”, she shouted back at him, because as far as she could tell, there was no reason to react like this.

The girl had been puking out the black stuff for hours now. She grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him a little, he had to come to his senses now.

When she looked back at the qunari, the boy leant over the girl to whisper something to her, but it was too faint for her to make out the words. Her gaze turned to Rudolph who had started to move as well.

All of a sudden, he sat up bolt upright and gasped, his eyes open and wide in shock.  
         
“Maker’s breath!”


	4. Frieda I

  
_“Can you be forgiven_   
_When the cold grave has come?_   
_Or will you have won?_   
_Or will battle rage on?_   
_Oh, Grey Warden,_   
_What have you done?”_ _  
_ \- ‘Oh, Grey Warden’, as performed by the bard Maryden Halewell

  


**“To The Champion of Kirkwall  
** **Nikolai Hawke (9:10 - 9:48)  
** **Lest we forget what he did for this city"**

 

The golden coating of the plaque had been peeled off. It must have been the weather, when the strong winds whistled through the docks they left their mark on every corner, every building, every street. Or the heavy downpour of the rain over the years, or some thieves that came in the dead of night and did their dirty schemes to earn themselves a few silvers. It was probably the latter.

Frieda looked up from the plaque. It did not matter to her, the statue itself did not even matter. When she looked at it, she did not see her brother. It was supposed to be him, sure, but it might just as well have been any other generic male citizen of this city, there was no true resemblance to him. There was something else, though. She saw the hero they worshipped standing there, victorious, the one thing this city was proud of.

Nikolai Hawke had, after all, saved the city from complete destruction more than once, in just a few years after arriving there as a refugee with his family. The Blight in Ferelden had driven them away from their homeland, and Kirkwall in the Free Marches had been their destination, just like the one of many other refugees. The Free Marches were situated north across the Waking Sea, north to Ferelden and therefore the perfect place to flee the swelling horde of Darkspawn in the south. The city states from which the Free Marches were constituted had been, in fact, incapable of taking in so many refugees, so in their special case, Niki and she had had to work and pay the way for their family into the city. It was just one of many odds he had had to fight against, and one of the most famous stood right in front of her. His fight with the Arishok, the leader of the group of Qunari that had lived in Kirkwall for four years after being shipwrecked, only to then attack the city when relations became too tense. Niki had saved the city from being taken over by defeating the Arishok in single combat. For that event, the city had pronounced him Champion of Kirkwall.   
And that Champion was what they saw in him.

But she knew there was more to her brother than that. Or rather, there had been.

She turned away from the memorial. This was not the place to remember him. Not for her, at least. That was where she was headed to next. It might have been selfish, to leave this statue for the city and the mansion all for herself, but it was her family's estate, and she could not have had the heart to sell it, even if they had begged her to give the former estate of the Champion to them. Luckily, they had had better sense than that, so she didn’t have to reject the the official’s proposal so openly. It was her brother's still, and it was the only real thing she had left of him. Plus, it was better than some impersonal statue of him slaying the Arishok.

When she made her way back to Hightown, Frieda kept thinking about the message she had just received. After such a long time without any progress, something had finally happened. Not that she would have given up if it had not - this was something she simply could not let go of under any circumstance. But to finally be able to do something, to stop waiting for something, anything, to happen, seemed almost like a miracle to her. It was time to act, and she would do it as soon as possible.

The mansion was exactly the way she had left it hours before. Just as quiet, and filled with memories, both her own and those of her brother and mother. As she walked through the entrance area, a familiar shiver ran through her. She was used to it - it had been years since she had returned to Kirkwall and moved to the family mansion, but it still made her feel uneasy, as if she was intruding upon something that did not belong to her, but to her brother. For that very reason, it had seemed wrong to put all his things away, no matter how weird or even deluded that seemed.

She walked over to the writing desk. The letter was still on top of it, just where she had put it down before taking a walk to the Docks. It had been a little overwhelming to finally receive some good news, and she had hoped some fresh air and a visit to the memorial might be able to clean her head and discourage her from doing anything too rash. But her mind was still set. She was going away, to _that_ place, and she would investigate what exactly had happened to her brother herself.

Carefully, she unfolded the letter and looked at the hastily written note that lay inside it, but was separate and in a different handwriting than the rest of the letter:

_“Finally found something. Can’t say anything more right now. Will investigate further. Ready to meet up, just give the word. -Valo-kas”_

It was the message she had been waiting for. This person called Valo-kas was working for the Inquisition, or with the Inquisition, and he had been sent to Weisshaupt by them years ago, to find out what had happened to Niki. It was the last place where her brother had been, before his body and armour had turned up elsewhere. It was the only noteworthy place to investigate this thoroughly.

She would never forget the day the message had come, now seven years ago. At first, it had been impossible to believe. Her brother had been, after all, Nikolai Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall and had survived so many things, and they had said he had died on his way back home. It was true, however, that his intention had supposedly been to come back home, or at least that was what he had written in his final letter to her. As it turned out, that letter was more crucial than she first had realised:

  
_“… For quite some months I haven’t heard anything of you. It’s alright though, your old big brother can get along… Surely…_

_Have you been up to important stuff, too?_

_You probably won’t believe it, but I can’t report anything new… Though, I don’t know what I expected after all this time. Haha…_

_I’ve been thinking, that maybe it’s time to return to Kirkwall? Now there are days that I can’t even remember how nice my statue looks back there (which it never truly did now that I think of it - but well, it’s Kirkwall, what can you expect?). Kirkwall needs its champion, even if he intends to just lock his door and let nobody in but the cook and maybe some fans. The Blooming Rose could make some… House-visits? Either way, enough jokes for now._

_You’re doing alright I hope? Knowing to be able to see my little sister again fills my heart with great joy. I’ve gotten even older but I just can’t imagine the same for you; that face will always stay pretty._

_Lavellan hasn’t written either by the way. Lots to do maybe? Maker, I’m really not important enough anymore, haha! Enough for the Inquisition that is…”_

 

It was a code, pieced together from every first letter of each sentence.

_FISHY. THINK THEY KILL ME._

He had tried to tell her that he was in danger years ago, that the Grey Wardens at Weisshaupt were about to kill him, but she had not been able to make out that there was a code at all, only long after that, when the message of his death had reached her and it had been much too late to do anything about it. But still, when she did, she knew who was behind his death. She was convinced of it. They had been letting Niki wait for years at Weisshaupt before they had even been willing to talk to him at all.

It was just one other of the many shady things the Grey Wardens of the Anderfels had been doing over the years. When they severed ties with the Grey Wardens of Orlais and even Ferelden, everyone should have known that there was something more going on, and someone should have investigated it right away, instead of just leaving her brother all alone with these people. There was a lot that anyone could have done, and Niki should not have been the one to pay the price for this mistake.

She had been angry for years, and sad, her mourning never really stopping since it was impossible to let herself move on from this. For whatever anyone could have done to prevent it, it was still the Grey Wardens’ fault that he was dead. And they were not going to get away with it.

Frieda took the letter and the note and tucked it into her pocket. It was finally time to act.

 

The first thing to do, obviously, was to organise the whole journey. She would need a way to get there, supplies and someone who would take care of the mansion while she was gone. Luckily, she had just the one in mind for the job.

The steps of Viscount’s Keep had evidently just been cleaned, as the marble from which they had been made was shining brightly in the sun that shone weakly through the vast windows right above the entrance. She still remembered how strange it had been to be in this place again. When they had just arrived in Kirkwall, her brother and she had used to help out all sorts of people in these halls, most of all the City Guard and the Viscount, the ruler of Kirkwall, himself. But that was long ago. The years after that, she spent her time in the Gallows, the Circle of Kirkwall, and there was no business for a circle mage in the Viscount’s Keep. That of course changed again with the mage rebellion when she had to flee the city together with her brother and their friends because they had defended her fellow mages (including herself) from the overzealous templars. When she had returned to help out, and to return to what had become her home over the years, it had been hard to shake all the memories this place had in store. But she still had friends, especially in the City Guard, and that in turn had helped her to make some more friends.

She descended to the barracks, the home of the Kirkwall City Guard: many of those standing in the room were gathered in front of the roster, apparently examining the routes they had been assigned to for the following week. Some looked disappointed, but she spotted several faces that were beaming with pride, including the one she was looking for. Quietly and with small footsteps, she stepped behind him and cleared her throat.

“Guardsman, I may require your assistance.”

When his mop of shaggy brown hair turned around, his face revealed exactly the surprised smile that she had hoped for.

“Why, Serah Hawke. How can I help?”

She grinned at that and took a few steps away from the other Guardsmen. “So formal.”

“Well, you started it.” He looked pleased with himself, though she could not say for what reason.

“Come on, you know how much fun it is to tease you at your work.”

“Do I?”, he asked and walked with her into the breakroom. “It’s so rare for you to visit me here, so I really don’t know.”

Frieda sat down at one of the table and nodded slowly. Yes, she had not been in the mood for work visits normally, but seeing Christian do his job and living his life had still lifted up her spirits a bit somehow.

“So.”, he quickly added, maybe to fill the silence that had just befallen Frieda. “This must be important, then?”

“It is.” She reached down her pocket and held the letter and the note in her hand, but then hesitated to show it to him. First, she needed to ask him a few things. His eyes were on the letter now, though. “You know some people on the docks, right? Of course you do, you patrol there pretty often. I need you to get me on bord of one of the ships.”

“You’re going away?” There was surprise in his voice, and sadness.

“Yes… I have to go.” She lowered her gaze and gave him the letter and the note.

After giving him the time to read and process the information, she spoke up again. “You know I have to do this, right? There’s finally progress, and I have to investigate it right at the source.” She waited a short moment before continuing. “Will you help me?”

He was hesitant. His dark greyish green eyes were still on the paper before him, and he furrowed his brow in doubt. Of course, he knew all about the situation with her brother, as he had always been there to listen to her when she had needed it. This was exactly why she knew that she could count on his help, no matter what he was thinking right in this moment.

“You really want to go there all alone?”

“This Valo-kas will be there. And I’m not waiting for him to turn up dead, too. Can you imagine what that would be like? Maybe no one would even notify me at all, Maker knows the Inquisition thinks all they can do is let their agent investigate for years without any real results. I have to do it, and as soon as possible.”

“This is insanely dangerous, Frieda. And you’ll still be alone until you get there…” She could not help but notice just how worried he sounded. It was almost a little maddening.

“I’m a mage, remember? I can take care of myself.”

He leant back and stiffened. “Yes, I know. No need to remind me, alright?”

Frieda’s defiance faded almost instantly. Of course he would not have forgotten. It was, after all, the reason why she had to leave Kirkwall, him and the life they had started to build together behind. Following the years of the mage rebellion, the templars had separated from the Chantry and were hunting down everyone they considered apostates, so practically all mages, as the circles had been disbanded just before. It had not been safe for her to stay in one place, and she could not have asked him to run away with her and to live on the run. It was too much to ask of someone who had lived all his life in one city. Maybe he might have even grown to resent her, if she had insisted that he should come with her, for his duty in the Guard was too important to give up. But still. she was sorry how it had gone down, they had had, after all, great years together and had loved each other a great deal, giving all that up and taking their newborn son with them had been impossibly hard. Leaving him permanently had actually never been the plan, but with what little contact they had and all of his silent anger, it had been impossible to maintain a working relationship. She could not blame him for being angry. It still amazed her that they had been able to become friends when she had made her return to Kirkwall.

“But still…” He sighed. “I don’t want you to go alone. Let me come with you.”

“Come with me?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “But you can’t. You have your job here. And I wanted you to take care of the mansion for me. And what about Vicky, what happens to him when we both don’t come back from this…? No. No, no, this is too dangerous for us both to go. No.” As much as she protested, the possible prospect of having his company on this journey was too tempting to pass up. She had to be careful not to let herself be persuaded, she had a son to think of too, after all.

“Look.”

Christian leant closer to her again.

“I’m sure everything of that can work out. I’ve been on duty for so long, I’m sure the Guard Captain will agree that a vacation is overdue. And you’re friends with her too, right? Surely she can keep an eye on the mansion just as much as I could. And…” He paused and rubbed his bearded chin.. “About Vic….”

Victor, their son, had inherited Frieda’s and her father’s talent for magic, and so had needed to be sent to the Bright Hand in Starkhaven, one of the reformed successors to the circles when he was six years old. It had not been easy to give him to them, as she had been wishing that he had no magical talent whatsoever from the day he was born. It was good that mages had gained more rights under the new Divine, but they were still not equal to non-mages, and there were still people that treated them with fear and disdain. She had wished that her son would have been spared from all that but alas, when he had been five years old, his magic had slowly started to form. It was a consolation, however, that the Bright Hand was a far better place to learn and practice magic and she knew that there was no reason to fear for him there, the way her mother had feared when Frieda had been turned in to the Circle.

“You don’t have to come.”, she quickly said to stop him from swaying her.

“You’ll be here when he gets out of the Bright Hand, everything will be fine.”, as if to underline this, she laid her hand on the middle of the table.

“Oh come on, as if he’ll leave when he turns 16. Basic training won’t be enough for him, and he’ll want to stay in Starkhaven for some more years. And besides, if we both go, we can look out for each other, so it’ll be less dangerous in the end and we’ll both be coming back.”

He grinned slyly.

“Can’t beat that logic.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. And maybe it was the fact that he still managed to make her smile, or that his line of argument somehow made sense, or a combination of both, but now she just knew that it really would be best if he came along. And he was right, after all: going there alone was suicidal. She did not plan on dying any time soon. “Maybe you can’t.”

“So…”

“Yes.” She sighed resignedly. “You can come with me.”

“Great!” His grin widened, and out of excitement, he grabbed onto the hand she had put on the table just moments ago. “You’ll see, it’s gonna be a lot better this way. It’s gonna be f--” He stopped himself before finishing his sentence.

“Well, not fun, but I’m sure it will be something. When will we leave?”

She grinned and shook her head. “As soon as everything is taken care of. We still need that ship, and the Guard Captain needs to be asked to take care of the mansion for me, we need supplies, I need to write a letter to Vicky and there’s one more thing...”

She pointed at the letter that was still lying in front of Christian.

It was from a contact that the Inquisition had acquired for her, this hunter from Ghislain was the one who had found her brother’s body and armour and brought it to the authority’s attention. In his letter, he had written that he still knew exactly where his discovery had been. There even was a map attached, where he had marked the finding spot so that she was able to find it. That was all he was going to do, however, as he explained that he was not ready to return to that place because years had passed since the day he found the body, and during that time a giant had made itself a home in that area. Giants were, like the name suggested, huge and dangerous creatures, and in general, it was sensible to stay clear of them, as there was a fair chance of ending up dead if encountered. Frieda had never seen one in her life, but she had absolutely no doubt about the danger they might pose. Giants were, after all, much taller than ogres, and an encounter with an ogre had cost her twin brother Albi his life. So caution was the wisest course of action, but it still irked her. They might be able to find out more if they just examined the place he had been found, and if she found some kind of damning evidence against the Grey Wardens, it would help her case, both in Weisshaupt and for the Inquisition. Uncertain, she stared down at the piece of paper.

“Do you have an idea yet?”

“No…” She exhaled in a long, deep breath. “It’s so dangerous. I don’t want us to get hurt. But I also don’t want to miss anything that might help us. I don’t know if I’ll regret it if we won’t go there. But I’ll definitely regret it if we go there and someone gets hurt. So in the end, I might just regret it either way, really.”

She shook her head frustratedly and looked at Christian, as if he had an answer to it all.

Sadly, he did not.

“Let’s just do all the other things and decide this at the end.”

“Good enough, I suppose...” This was something she could agree with. She would still be thinking about it while doing all the other tasks she was supposed to do, but maybe then she could come to a conclusion that would ease the decision for her. Finally, she pulled her hand away from him and got up. “Let’s get to work.”


	5. The Young Vashoth II

**4**  
  
_“On blackened wings does deceit take flight,_  
_The first of my children, lost to night.”_  
\- Silence 3:6, Dissonant Verse

 

**Time had become meaningless.**

The flickering green light of the torches on the rocky walls around them were meaningless, just as much as the dragon looming over the basin that still seemed to be blinking now and then when he looked at it. He had lost all desires to find out what the whispers around him were saying, and he ignored the humming that was coming from everywhere. At first, he had been astounded when he had seen that the cave had lost its ceiling: there was sky now, endless sky, but it did not look like the sky was supposed to look. Instead, it was a sickly green, almost the same colour as the torches around them. The city far off in the distance, all in black, was another clue just how unnatural this all was. It had all been things he had wanted to investigate.

Now it had all lost its meaning.

The only meaning still held his Kadan, and the illness that had befallen her. He could not lose her now, as she was the only thing he had left. Ever since their mother died, it had been just the two of them.

“I hate it here,” he said for the twelfth time and his words echoed back from the stone walls.

There was no way of knowing how much time had passed, but judging from the way his confusion had turned to anger and then to apathy, it must have been forever. It might have just been that they would stay here for eternity, and it held no comfort at all that he knew where they were.

This place was called _the Fade_. He was not sure of it, but it was the only reasonable explanation he could come up with. The Fade was the only place that could make that little sense while still being a place he could remember. In this case, the location was the last cave they went to, where they had drunk from the basin. It fit, somehow. After all, the Fade was the place where dreamers went, and people who had magic, so his best guess was that they were in an endless sleep, and there was no way to wake up.

His head turned to face the back of his sister’s head. She was still sitting with her back turned to his, her eyes open, but without stirring and only occasionally making sounds. And there was still that black liquid oozing from her mouth, slowly, sometimes stopping, but never for very long. It was hard to look at her like this, when he knew the way his Kadan had been before and when he had no way of knowing how to help her. He knew she was still in there, though, he was sure of it, because the occasional moans she let out had to mean she was in pain, or in terror, or both, and that meant she was not gone.

Everything turned darker. It happened again, like it already had so many times: a shadow appeared out of nowhere above them. It circled over their heads. There was a scream from a creature, most likely the one up in the air, and the whispers that were constantly around him got louder, faster, and seemed much more excited. This process had occurred before, and with time, he had developed a theory of what was happening. The shadow of the creature seemed to be calling out to something, or someone, and the whispers might be answering that call, but he had no idea if the two parties actually got through to each other and were able to hear what the other was trying to communicate. The creature was a long way up, judging from its shadow, after all. When he could not stand it anymore, and the noise and the shadow became too unsettling, he turned his gaze towards the sky, and as usual, there was no creature to be seen. The shadow disappeared, and the whispers returned to their usual rhythm and volume.

With a new sudden impulse to act, he got up and walked a small semicircle to his sister. He got down on his knees and stared directly into her eyes, trying to find what he knew was still in there somewhere.

“Kadan. Can you hear me.” Desperately, he clutched his hands into her shoulders, but it did not help. The eyes staring back at him were empty - and changed: they were pitch black with crimson coloured irides. It creeped him out, it was just one more sign of how his Kadan was transforming into something twisted and corrupted. He shook her lightly, fully knowing that nothing would happen but some new black substance draining down her chin. He gritted his teeth in frustration.

There was a presence around him. He felt it, it was different from the whispers that had already become so normal to him. And, unlike the shadow, it did not disappear when he looked at it. There were several present, in fact: small lights, floating in the air, apparently some wisp-like appearances here in the Fade, definitely watching him and his sister.

“Go away!”, he barked at them, and they dispersed right away. He immediately regretted his outburst, tried to salvage what he had just done and even changed his voice to a more conciliatory tone. He knew some mages could use things from the Fade to heal people.  
“No, stay, if you can help her…”

But they were already gone.

Quickly, he got up. It was possible that these things were still close somewhere, and maybe they were indeed capable of healing his sister, so he would try to find any of them. A quick look at her was enough to know that she would not be joining him, and he could not carry her all the way when he didn’t even know where he was going.

He stepped into the passageway and was not surprised to find it exactly the same as the one they had walked through before coming into the cave chamber. His bow was in his hand, a precaution, even though he could not say if he was able to use it, should the need come up, as the Fade had different rules he could not possibly know. He did not dream frequently after all, so his visits to the Fade so far (or at least those he could remember) could be counted on both his hands. The further he went, the more it seemed to him that everything looked the same. Even more than the passageways that they actually walked, this one was repetitive in ways that would guarantee anyone to get lost. He decided not to go too far, the last thing he wanted was to lose his way and not making it back to his Kadan. His patience was wearing thin, already, too. There was no sign of the small magical things he had seen in the cave.

“Hello? Are you here somewhere? We need help.”

He listened as his voice echoed throughout the passageway. No creatures came, no matter how long he waited. Eventually, though, he heard something. Could this be the help he had wanted? Eagerly, he made a few steps into the direction from which the noise had come. There was another noise, but much closer. He recognised it all too well. It was the grunt of darkspawn. He readied his bow and aimed at the way before him, hearing the grunts and heavy steps getting closer and closer. And there they were, three darkspawn, small, tainted creatures that unsheathed their weapons to strike him down. He would not give them the chance. The first, he hit right between the eyes. It only took a second for him to draw another arrow from his quiver, and after one, two, three, the second darkspawn lay on the ground next to the one he had hit before. The third one was an archer, just like him. It made no effort to approach him further, and he used that to his advantage, ducking from the incoming arrows while simultaneously aiming at the darkspawn’s throat. With a final grunt, it sank down. He breathed exhaustedly and got closer to them. About half of his arrows had been used up, and he needed to collect the ones he had used from the corpses just like he always did.

After storing them away in his quiver, he went further down the passageway. If there were darkspawn here, they might come from somewhere, and maybe if he just went a little further, he could see if there were any of these little lights nearby. At the moment, however, there was no sign of them.

A few minutes further down, his exploration came to an end when he was suddenly surrounded by walls: both ahead and to his left and right, the massive stone walls blocked his path. There was no sign that any of them could be opened, either, or at least not for him to see.

“Stupid Fade…”, he mumbled and turned around. “Stupid caves.”

For a moment he felt like he would never see anything else in his life but cold dwarven stone. Now, there was no reason to linger when there was nothing to find and the small beings were permanently gone for the moment. It was time to return to his sister.

And right then, another pair of darkspawn attacked. He shot them down just as easily as the first three that had come his way. And just as before, he collected his arrows from them and walked  past the corpses. The way back seemed longer than when he had come down the passageway, and there were two new attacks from darkspawn, each time in small groups, that were ridiculously easy to defeat, but still annoying and hindering him on his way back. That he was able to make it back to the cave at all seemed almost like a small miracle, all things considered, but the sight of what was happening at the place where he had left his Kadan stopped his heart for a second.

She was not alone anymore. There were several of the small beings he had just been looking for, engulfed in light, just like the ones he had seen before he left. He felt frustration rush through him quickly. But there was more to it than that: there was someone else with her, a human. That man was kneeling beside his sister, his blue robes dangling into the black goo at his feet, maybe examining her, but he could not say for sure, as it was too far away for him to see it properly. His frustration was pushed away by fear, and he quickly ran towards the group that had gathered around his Kadan.

“Hey!”

His voice was not as willful as he had intended, but when he spoke up, he immediately got the man’s and probably the other beings’ attention as well.

“What are you doing with her? Who are you? Leave her alone. Leave and I won’t hurt you. Go away.”

Protectively, he shoved himself between his sister and the human. Now he was able to properly examine his face. There was nothing intimidating about it, and, as far as he could tell (as faces of humans and their nature was not exactly his area of expertise) there was even kindness in his blue eyes. Instinctively, his stance became less aggressive, but his wariness did not decline just yet. It was better to be wary of him in that moment and be wrong about it than to trust blindly and let himself be betrayed by that trust. It was a lesson his mother had taught him, and as with almost anything, he knew she had been right.

The man raised both his hands as a soothing gesture and he stood up, taking a step back.

“Shanedan, Vashoth. I am here to help.”

His tension gradually faded. This stranger knew qunlat, and he knew that he was a vashoth, the child of Qunari that lived outside of the Qun. It was rare to meet someone with this much knowledge about his culture, in fact, it had maybe happened once or twice so far, so his first instinct was that he did not have to fear this person. If anyone was able to help them, it was probably him.

“Help?” He thought back to his calls for aid at the spirits.

Maybe the small beings had lead this man to his sister. On their journeys they had heard of spirits trying the help the lost or hurt. He knew that spirits were drawn more to mages, like his Kadan happened to be. Their mother had been one, too, a Saarebas, a ‘Dangerous Thing’. In Par Vollen, the place where his kind originated from, the Saarebas were put in chains and given special collars that would block their magic to a certain extend. They were slaves, controlled by those qunari that possessed the leashes to the mage’s collars. Their mother had violently escaped her life as a slave along with other Saarebas. Henceforth they lived as hunted Tal-Vashoth, as qunari that had left the way of the Qun behind them. Their mother had never spoken much about her past and her young children just kind of accepted that they were constantly on the run from the Ben-Hassrath’s Arvaarad, the mage hunters wielding the leashes of the Saarebas. An Arvaarad killed their father before his son was born. Not even his older sister could remember him. She could also not remember their life before their mother had decided to live with them in solitude, far away from towns or mercenary camps. It was much more difficult for the Ben-Hassrath to find them this way. They never stayed at the same place for long, they became nomads, traveling all across Thedas. Eventually though, their mother’s hunters caught them, cornered them, forcing her to risk all she had to protect her children. It had happened three years ago, in the lush forests of the Emerald Graves in the Dales, just as deadly as it seemed peaceful. Sometimes at night he could still see his mother, wrapped in flames as the demon took over her body, raging through the lines of Ben-Hassrath warriors slaying one after the other before disappearing forever.

Remembering his mother made the young Vashoth more cautious again.

 _“Trust no one. Qunari, human, elf, it does not matter. Only trust your Kadan.”,_ words she had shared with them a long time ago.

Humans could be of the Ben-Hassrath, too. He could not trust this person. If he was here to take his Kadan away like they had taken away their parents, he would fight.  

“Why would you want to help us? Who are you? How do you know qunlat?”, he asked, furrowing his brows.

The man glanced at Kadan before he continued to make eye contact with the boy. He took his time to answer but when he did, he gave him a warm smile.

“My name is Rudolph Cousland and I’m enchanter to the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. We found you and the girl in the Deep Roads near this very statue… Is she your sister?” He slightly turned his head towards the dragon and the basin, and the young Vashoth could see the touch of curiosity in his eyes, “You’ve been sleeping for some days now. For some reason you seem to be trapped in this part of the Fade…I’m a healer and I want to help you wake up.”

Apparently this Rudolph claimed to be a mage. Mages could not be Ben-Hassrath. The Vashoth examined him for a moment. For the time being the man looked trustworthy, and right now, he had little reason to doubt his story if he really was a mage. He knew too little of Grey Wardens: up until now, they had only been stories they had heard, tales in the villages they had had to enter, statues looming over a town, or even a fortress in the distance. Whenever spoken of, the name Grey Warden had carried a lot of weight to it, as if it was this transcendental order of warriors that could fix anyone’s problems if they were graced with their presence.

“Are you really a mage?”, he asked baldly.

The man smiled.

“Why, yes.”

“Prove it.”

For a moment there was silence and the man eyed him. Then he lifted his hand. Small blue sparks erupted from his palm. Magic. The Vashoth looked up, the fear and doubt were gone but he still had to be cautious, if there was one thing he knew it was that the Ben-Hassrath were not the only monsters of this world.

“...You say you can help Kadan? Do it then. Make her better and get us out of here.”  

“I will try everything in my power, I promise.”, it seemed like nothing could ruffle Rudolph’s patience and calmness, “There is one thing I have to ask to better understand, though. Who are you two and what happened to you?”

“I won’t tell you who we are.”, the Vashoth replied immediately, “I still can’t trust you.”

The mage examined him for quite some time. He seemed to be thinking about something. Finally he opened his mouth again.

“Fair enough… But can you tell me what happened? Does it have anything to do with that dragon well?”

It seemed logical for him to want to know what happened in order to help them, and the young Vashoth could see little to no danger in telling him his story.

“Alright, Kadan and I fell into these…” He remembered what the mage had called the place he had spent his last days. “Deep Roads… after there was an earthquake that came out of nowhere. We tried to find a way out, for days, but there wasn’t any. Then we found a way that was blocked and we made a path through it. Then we found some water but…”

He hesitated, not sure how to continue, as something told him that this part of the story was indeed dangerous to tell, when told to the wrong person.

“But there was something wrong with it.”

The whispers around him grew louder again, and he wondered if the human could see the shadow above them.

“But we were dying of thirst.”

While the Vashoth talked, Rudolph nodded here and there and seemed to listen keenly. One could figuratively see his brain working behind his skull.

“I see…”, he finally replied, pondering.

He knelt down next to the young Vashoth’s sister.

“Kadan, you called her? It means ‘Where the heart lies’, I always found it was a nice thing to call people you care about…”, he said as he looked at her face.

Her eyes were still only half closed and the black liquid dripped from her lips.

“You haven’t told me how you know qunlat. I thought you were one of the Ben-Hassrath first.”

“Oh, no. I just travel and read a lot.”, the man laughed, “And I’ve met a few Tal-Vashoth and even Qunari in my days with the Grey Wardens. I guess I picked up a few words here and there.”

The Vashoth nodded and looked around. Even more spirits had gathered while they were talking. He was starting to feel uncomfortable. He could remember his mother saying that all demons were spirits once. He was not sure what it meant but he really did not want to find out.  

“These things are spirits, right? I’ve heard some mages use them to heal others. Is that what you’re going to do?”, he asked the man.

“I am a spirit healer, yes. I’ve-”

The young Vashoth cut in.

“Is it safe?”, he sounded much more frightened than he had intended.

Before the mage could answer, one of the bright wisps next to the Vashoth began to shape into the form of a small rabbit.

“I heal. I am here to help.”, it said with a confident little voice.

And just so, another wisp began to change its shape and as the Vashoth looked to his right, a white stag, an animal called a halla, stood beside him, nudging his side with its snout. The Vashoth flinched a little and took some steps back.

“She will be strong and healthy.”, the halla said, its voice proud and vigorous.  

The boy could not reply, he was too taken aback by this whole situation. Never had he been in contact with actual spirits.

“This is Compassion.”, the mage tried to explain as he pointed at the rabbit first and then finally at the halla, “And this is Vitality.”

But the Vashoth did not fully understand what he meant. He just knew too little about magic or spirits. Frankly he could not have cared less what they were called, he just wanted to see his Kadan well again. Nothing but her was of importance now. He needed her.

“Okay...So just… Do it already. The longer we wait the worse she will probably get.”

“One more thing… I want to remark that there are… Injuries that go beyond magic in this world. This is not guaranteed to succeed. That being said… Compassion and Vitality, would you kindly?”

Up to this point, Rudolph had appeared quite confident but the Vashoth soon noticed that he seemed to have lost that mindset.

He could not respond in any way because the spirits, being much more self-assured than the tall mage, had stepped forward. The rabbit hopped onto his Kadan’s lap and began glowing, while the halla pushed its snout against her forehead and did the same. Rudolph stood up and took a few steps over to the Vashoth, carefully eyeing the spirits and what they were doing with the Vashoth’s Kadan. The boy slightly winced when he felt the mage’s grip on his shoulder. He pulled him another step back. When he looked up into his face, he could see true concern in his expression.

“Kadan?”

When he heard the voice of his sister from behind him, the young Vashoth turned around to see that she had reverted back to her old self. With a sigh of relief, he freed himself from Rudolph’s grip and took a few steps towards her, examining her closely.

“You’re back!”

Her gaze wandered throughout the room before resting first on the mage and then on her brother.

“What happened?”

He grabbed her hand and sighed. To see her like this again after spending that many hours at her unreceptive side made him happy, and the struggles so far were starting to seem unimportant. As long as they both were alright, everything else did not matter that much. With freshly ignited optimism, he shook his head calmingly.

“Nevermind about that right now. We have to get out. Can you help with that?”

With a hopeful look, he turned to face Rudolph, who still had his previous concern written all over him. But just before he was able to reply, his eyes widened in shock and he leapt forward, his hands on the Vashoth’s shoulder again.

“Get away from her.”

“What are y--”

Uncomprehendingly, he looked back at his sister.

“No!”, he yelled, his voice a desperate cry.

She was like she had been before, completely still, her eyes red and black and lifeless, and new black ooze coming from her mouth, but so much more than before, it was streaming down her chin to the ground and she was gurgling, choking, but she didn’t stop, the blackness kept pouring out of her.

“Kadan, no!”

Even though he knew there was nothing he could do, he had tried it in every possible way for the time they had spent in the Fade, after all, he wanted to stay with her, stop this somehow, save her, turn her back to what she had been just a moment ago. The hope that had formed during that short period instantly vanished, leaving him to feel empty and betrayed. They all had said they were going to help his sister, he had trusted them to do that, because he just wanted his Kadan back to the way she had been so badly. And now, everything was worse. They must have done something wrong, some sort of error in their spells, just like there was always something wrong with magic, and there was always a price when it was used.

“You said it would help her!”, he screamed at the mage, but his words were lost in his sister’s noises, and Rudolph’s attention was diverted by the black mass that was still coming out of her, and starting to swallow everything in its way.

The spirits were being drowned and consumed by the blackness, completely disappearing into the liquid as if they had never existed. The cave turned darker with each second as the black liquid crept over the floor and walls. He  glanced at the place his sister had sat, but she was gone, all he could see was a shapeless lump of thick, black mass. Heat was gathering in his face, but tears would not come, not yet. He clawed into the mage’s arm that was still pulling him back into the Deep Roads’ corridors. He could not struggle, he could not move on his own.

“Noooo! Kadan!”, he screamed, his face now streaming in tears.   

“Teth a! Control your grief, Vashoth, there is still hope. But now you have to run!”

The words rang hollow in his ears. There was no hope to be seen, every last bit of hope had been swallowed by the blackness in front of them. His sister was gone, there was nothing left of her except for the blackness that had come out of her body.

He could not move. It would be easy to just let himself be swallowed as well, if the mage did not drag him away. What was the point of saving him when he could not save her? He did not want to die, but his judgement was clouded by a heavy veil of grief, and there was nothing but darkness in his sight. Even when he knew this, his legs would not move.

“I can’t!”, he cried. “I can’t run! Kadan…”

Simultaneously with his words, his legs’ muscles gave up on him, and he would have sunken to the floor, if it had not been for the mage, who pulled his arm even tighter. The man finally let go of the Vashoth, or so he thought, for just a second later he was swept off his feet, into the air. The human had him in his arms, like one would carry a wounded pet. Some humans had called him and his Kadan savage animals in the past, though he didn’t know how this thought came to his mind right now in this situation. Simply because it did not matter.

“Let go…”, was all he could say to protest, and it was a faint and soft protest, without any real defiance left.

The man ignored the plea all the same, and the young Vashoth felt himself being carried away from the darkness, from what was left of his sister. The tears were burning on his cheeks and he could hear the mage’s pounding heart whenever the side of his face touched the other’s chest.

They did not run for long, the Vashoth was sure. It was just feeling like an eternity.

“Listen to me.”, the mage finally said when he lowered the Vashoth to the ground.

For a second he thought his legs would go weak again but despite his expectations, they did not yield. He looked up to see the mage’s face. The man’s hand was tightly resting on his shoulder.

“I will wake you up. And I will follow. There will be two others around you. An elf and a dwarf. They’re my friends and you can trust them. Your sister will be there, too. We’re going to try to save her.”

He scoffed at that and watched Rudolph’s hand come closer to his face. “Like _you_ tried to save her before?”

The cool touch of the mage’s thumb on his forehead ripped him out of the Fade.

 

When he woke up, the coldness had spread to all of his face and it was windy - a soft but cold breeze blew into his face and made him stir. _Right…_ It was still the cold month of Drakonis if he remembered correctly. There was warmth too, though, the fire was closeby and tickled his cheek.

He wanted to sit and look around, find out where he was, but when he tried to bend his legs, there was little strength left in them, it was exhausting, and it reminded him of before when he and his Kadan had been in the caves, before the Fade.

The memory of past events made him stir even more.

“Kadan..?”, he murmured in a raspy voice. Talking hurt, and he still felt so weak.

“Mage…?”

The mage had promised that he would be there, he remembered. He wanted to help, after all. And right now, the Young Vashoth was in dire need of help.

When he opened his eyes, however, it was not the silhouette of the human he had met before that was above him, but clearly that of an elf, since the distinct pointy ears made him even in blurred sight easily recognisable. He rubbed his eyes until he could see clearly. The elf wore similar armor to Rudolph, making him with high probability a Grey Warden as well.

The elven Warden handed him a flask, and he took it with trembling hands, hastily pouring down the water into his sore throat. It made him cough and stop, since spilling the precious liquid was the last thing he wanted right now, but then he continued and breathed heavily, feeling it flow through his body and filling him anew with energy. He drank as much as he could and then sat up.

“You okay, kid?”, though deep it was the voice of a woman; maybe the other friend the mage spoke of?

It was a weird question to ask. What was she thinking? He certainly felt like he had been chewed on and spit out again.

“No.”, he said and looked up, now seeing two people in front of him for the first time.

A broad faced, tired and pretty old looking female dwarf and a much younger, slim elf with typical big roundish green eyes. Just like Rudolph had said, although there was no sign of the latter.

There was a sound coming from the ground next to him, a sound he knew all too well. Reflexes made the young Vashoth turn to his sister, who was spitting out the same liquid that had almost drowned them in the Fade just moments ago.

“Okay, _that_ does not sound healthy.”, he heard the dwarf say. Her voice was faint, as if she was far away.

All of his focus lay on his Kadan. She looked no better than she had in their dreams, pale, visible dark veins on her neck and face and a chin smudged with remnants of the black, thick goo.

“I-I-Is she turning?”, all the young Vashoth could see as he glanced at the moving elf was the bright shimmer of his sword which seemed to carry some enchantment runes.

He was alarmed at once. He would not let that elf get near her, nobody would harm her. Just when he got ready to try and disarm the Warden, his Kadan sat up upright, spewing what seemed like a gallon of the black mass at the elf, who let out a scream and fell down. The Vashoth almost expected the blackness to eat the man like it had eaten the spirits of the Fade, but nothing of the sort happened. The Warden just wiggled around awkwardly, shouting and swinging his sword in all directions. His dwarven comrade tried to calm him and when the situation seemed safe again, the young Vashoth turned his attention to his sister who was beginning to shiver in the bedroll just a few centimeters from him. He placed his hand on her forehead and murmured some words to calm her. He was glad to see her, even if she was still asleep, it was better seeing her like this now than as the shapeless cluster of the darkest phlegm from before.

“Ataas shokra, Kadan… Please be well.”

Behind them, the dwarf and elf shouted at each other but the Vashoth was not listening. Only when he heard a familiar voice coming from a few metres behind him, he looked away from Kadan.

“Maker’s breath!”, it was Rudolph the mage who had woken up next to them.

He seemed disturbed and was breathing nervously but he got up just a fraction of a second later and staggered towards the Vashoth and his Kadan.

“Rudi! What in the Ancestors’ names is going on here? Tabris is gonna wet himself!”

“N...No time Commander…”, the mage groaned and fell to his knees right next to the Vashoth’s sister, “I… I need… I need to... “

“You need to sodding calm down that’s what you need!”, the dwarf handed Rudolph a flask and the mage drank a few sips before he grimaced and handed it back.

The Vashoth assumed it was not filled with water. He knew that dwarves liked to drink lots of alcohol. Rudolph looked at him and tried to smile. Streaks of auburn hair stuck to his forehead and his face was shining in the light of the campfire.

“How are you holding up, Vashoth? You’re very brave.”

“I don’t care. Just help Kadan already like you promised. You brought me back, so you can do the same for her.”, the Vashoth certainly didn’t feel brave at all but that wasn’t of importance anyway since all the bravery in the world could not help his sister right now. And saving her was all that mattered.

The dwarven Warden Commander had shoved the disturbed elf away out of reach, where he could clean himself up. She was now approaching again and kneeling down next to Rudolph and Kadan.

“That fool promised to save her? Sorry my poor lil’ qunari tot, but she’s tainted. On the brink of becoming a ghoul. We don’t wanna raise false hopes dear. She _will_ die.”

The woman could have punched him right in the face to get the same effect. It felt as if all his blood rushed down to his toes and for a second, he felt something like a cold hand stroking over the back of his neck. He clenched his fists and began to shake.

“You lied.”, he said quietly, almost whispering. His voice trembled and wouldn’t find its way out of his throat.

“We’ll make it quick, she won’t feel a thing.”, words he didn’t want to hear from that dwarf, words he ignored.

“You lied…”, he repeated, staring down at his Kadan’s thin hands that were resting on her arching chest. His throat and eyes were aching.

“Commander, I think it’s not too late yet, her body is trying to get rid of the corruption, if we could just-”, he would not let that dissembling Warden mage say another one of his false words.

“You lied!”

When the Vashoth looked up he stared the mage right into the eyes. It seemed like Rudolph could not bear the sight, because he instantly looked at his commander instead. The Vashoth could feel how the lump in his throat tightened.

“You lied to me…”, he did not want it to sound so pathetic but his voice had ultimately given up.

“Commander… The Joining…”

“By the Ancestors’ tits, Cousland, she’s a child! We can’t just go around and make children - qunari children - Grey Wardens!”

“Do you think the First Warden would care nowadays?”

“...No. But that’s not the point! It’s a blighted qunari child we’re talking about! She couldn’t be a Warden, even if she’d survive the Joining, she’d have to stay with us forever-”

“She won’t need to, Commander.”, all of a sudden the mage seemed to have changed, there was determination in his voice now.

“Cousland, sodding dust, making someone a Grey Warden is not something you _just do_. Once you’re in you’re in for good-”

“Commander my sincere apologies but since when do you give a single crap about the rules? Everything we’ve done, the very reason why we’re here is because we are breaking the damn rules. Give her the Joining, don’t tell anyone about it and be done with it. We can not let her die. We have to take her and her brother back to Vigil’s Keep, living. Killing her is out of the question. And I’d rather have her with us not a blighted ghoul!”, Rudolph huffed and seemed to calm down as his voice went soft again.

He looked at the Vashoth with sad eyes.

“....And I promised.”   

He seemed sincere, and doubt started to fill the boy’s mind, doubt about whether the mage had lied or not. It weakened his resolve to be outraged by the betrayal, so he stayed silent for now, listening to what they had to say, hoping that there still was a chance, all the while knowing that he should know better than to trust him again, be disappointed all over, and losing the hope to save his sister again and again. There was nothing else he could do for now, though. He was too weak to do anything but listen to them argue about the fate of his Kadan.

For a moment there was just silence.

“Well shave my back and call me an elf, Cousland, I’ve never heard you swear like that. Are you feeling alright?”

“Sorry Commander, tough night, Commander… We have to decide what to do.”

The dwarf got up and let out a deep sigh as she walked up and down in front of them. The young Vashoth could see her glancing at the elf near the campfire a few times.

“What if the Joining kills her? She’s just skin and bones. Sure, they say them qunari are a tough bunch but with her I’m not so sure. And you did say the Vint will need her alive...”, she pondered.

“A risk we have to take if it means we have a slim chance to save a life.”, Rudolph instantly replied.

“What would that Vint have us do if he were here, Rudolph?”

“... Probably let her turn if it meant saving information.”

“But we’re no stinkin’ Vints!”, the elf exclaimed, finally walking over to the rest of the group, “For Andraste’s sake, Commander, we know how to save her, I say we at least try.”

The young Vashoth felt lost in this conversation and his thoughts hindered him from listening completely. All he could understand from all that was that his Kadan’s life was in danger regardless of what they would do at this point.

“I’m still not sure. I’ve seen many good men die during their Joining, we all have. And she’s just an undernourished, sickly child. If we lose her, we might fail the mission.”, the dwarf argued while the Vashoth clutched at his knees and stared at his sister's gooey face.

She had never been of the healthy sort, always the first to catch a cold when they had to flee the weather during the winter months. She’d always lie in their shelter, tucked away in every bedroll, fur and cloth that they could find and he’d often buy her wool from the nearest town so she could knit socks and gloves while he was out trying to hunt for food. And he always knew that she would get well again, like she did every single time. When he looked at her now, though, all certainty was gone. There was only fear. Not once had he been this close to losing her. And it scared him beyond all he could ever have imagined.


	6. Line I

**5**

 

 _“Elgar'nan,_  
_Wrath and Thunder,_  
_Give us glory._  
_Give us victory over the Earth that shakes our cities.”_  
\- Song to the elven god Elgar’nan

  


**It was the warmest day of the year so far.**

And yet, the snow on the mountains all around lay untouched, an eternal layer of ice just on the top, never changing, or just a bit, in the hottest of summers, as it shrank and found its way into the river deep, deep below in the valley.

It was not summer yet, though. Winter had barely been left behind, and there was only little strength in the sun that was shining down on the stronghold. Even after the 14 winters they had spent in Skyhold, the coldness on top of the mountain was still barely tolerable. The same went for the strong wind.

Line’s eyes wandered to the enormous flag metres above after having been alerted by its aggressive flapping noises in the wind. It showed the heraldry of the Inquisition: the sunburst all-seeing-eye pierced by the Blade of Mercy.

As the Inquisition, it was their task to bring order to Thedas, an organisation independent from its different countries and institutions but with heavy influence in these via its own army, spies and diplomats. It had already saved Thedas from the brink of destruction before, and it would do so again, should the need arise, while the lords and ladies of Orlais, Ferelden and the Free Marches bickered like little children, standing divided instead of being united. For now, though, their goal was a different one, but one that was no less complex: the abolition of the slave trade in Tevinter. It went hand in hand with the elven rights movement, a very personal matter to Line, being an elf herself. They had already dedicated years to improve the situation for elves all over Thedas and part of that was to stop them from being enslaved. Stop anyone from being enslaved, for that matter, even if it might very well mean open war with the ruling class of Tevinter. In the end, they would get their will. That was the kind of power they held.

Her lips thinned into a proud smile as she watched the banner continue to flap loudly above her. Only when she heard a voice from below did she turn away from their stately heraldry.

“You know boys, I once knew a qunari lad who found it funny to climb on spiked fences, too. He slipped and impaled himself right between the legs. So assuming the young Trevelyan still wants to pursue his career as the next Lord Seeker and young master Lenné wants to be able to carry on his family’s name...  You two best leave it be.”

A tall white-haired qunari lectured the two children, Line’s son Alexander and his friend Jean Lenné, next to her, before slinking away when they turned around. She then climbed the steps to meet her friend on the battlements.

Line turned again to look at the mountains around them, enjoying the first signs of spring one last time before duty called her back into daily routines and turned her good mood sour. Her son's behaviour didn't surprise her at all. Alex had always been a lively boy, and if he had hurt himself on the fence, it would have been one more of many incidents that had already happened to him in his young years. At first she had thought he would learn from it, keep away from dangerous places because they had hurt him, but it turned out he was a risk taker, much more similiar to herself than she had first thought and not only Paul’s boy, both in looks and in deeds.

“Line, this is urgent.”

“And a good morning to you, Charly.”, she replied slightly annoyed, already feeling the serenity of just a moment ago fading away. “What is it, then?”

Her Spymaster stepped closer and stood next to her, supporting herself on the solid stone of their fortifications. Line turned her head up and knew immediately that whatever was going on was serious, judging from the stern look on her friend’s face. It was an expression reserved only for dire situations, and she had the utmost trust in the qunari’s ability to judge which situations were dire and which ones were not. As their Spymaster, Adaar (nicknamed ‘Charly’ only by those close to her) had all kinds of agents everywhere, ranging from mercenary groups over nobles to servants and orphans on the streets, getting daily reports from all over Thedas, telling her exactly when something noteworthy was going on. Her network was so widespread; Line doubted there was still a place left where Charly did not have her eyes and ears. Therefore, for her to be this serious, the situation demanded her immediate attention.

“An important raven reached me just now.”

She signalled Line with a gesture of her head to walk with her, apparently too much in a hurry to stand there and talk about it calmly and with all the time in the world. Line followed.

“I already arranged a war table meeting.”

“The others are already informed?”

It was not easy to keep up with her fast pace, as the qunari was much, _much_ taller than she was, but Line was far too proud to let it show, so she just walked that much faster, the way she was already accustomed to when walking with Charly.

“Eleonor is on her way to our General, and two messengers will fetch Paul and the Warden Constable.”

“The Warden Constable?” Line asked with irritation as they hurried down the steps. “What do we need her for?”

“It’s a Grey Warden matter,” Charly replied shortly without looking at her.

“What did they do now?”

Their big screw up from a few years ago was still fresh in Line’s mind: every Grey Warden had started hearing the Calling that signalled the end of their lives and called them to the Deep Roads to fight their last battle against the darkspawn, and the Wardens had been scared. So scared that they hatched the plan to go into the Deep Roads themselves to kill the remaining Old Gods in their slumber and thus preventing them from ever becoming archdemons and starting new Blights. They would not have been able to accomplish that all by themselves, of course, so they had started to raise a demon army with blood magic and the blood sacrifices of their warriors. Of course, that had been the idea from a magister of Tevinter they had allowed into their ranks and naturally, the Calling had been false, designed to manipulate the Wardens into creating an unstoppable demon army. Without the intervention of the Inquisition, it would have probably worked. She had conscripted the Wardens into their ranks after that, giving them one last chance to prove themselves, so with that in mind, ‘Warden matter’ made her feel uneasy, already expecting the worst.

“It’s not that,” Charly said trying to silence her with a gesture.

They entered the Great Hall, greeted by the large, vermilion banners of the Inquisition, the long tables and dragon statues roaming each side of the hall and, of course, at the end of the big room and a few steps up, the Inquisitor’s throne. Her throne. The people nodded at them as they walked by in recognition to their authority.

Line was not feeling this recognition of authority coming from her Spymaster very strongly right now though. There was very little information about this delicate situation coming from her and Line was starting to feel slighted, as it was important that the Inquisitor attended the meeting at least as informed the others. She did not like being at a disadvantage such as this one.

“Really, can you stop being this secretive now and just spit it out already? What’s going on?”

They entered the ambassador’s office. Charly paused and turned around to make sure she had closed the door that led to the throne room, before turning around once more and looking down at Line, her expression sterner than ever.

“I didn’t want to cause panic,” she started apologetically and lowered her voice. “The last days, there have been several ravens telling of an enormous darkspawn horde that’s moving really fast. It has become apparent now that their destination is Skyhold.” The qunari paused, maybe to let the information sink in. “Friedrich’s scouts gave him similar reports. We have no choice but to prepare for an upcoming attack.”

Line stared incredulously at her Spymaster, taken aback. It was the first she heard of any darkspawn hordes, and it worried and annoyed her equally. If they were already approaching Skyhold, they had to act quickly. Still, she would have liked to prepare herself for a meeting as important as this instead of being briefed right before it, while she was still expected to do and think of all that was necessary. She inhaled deeply and continued their walk towards the war room.

“Why is this the first that I’ve heard of this? You’re saying you have been getting reports for several days now. This isn’t exactly fresh news.”

“Like I said, Line, it wasn’t clear if we were going to be directly affected by it. It wasn’t even clear if they had a goal at all. I was waiting for more details from my agents before I could give you a full report.”

With a grim nod and without bothering to reply, she stopped at the door and saw that her other advisors were already standing in the hallway like two towers, waiting for them to arrive. Both of the siblings’ faces were serious, the General’s even more so than usual. There was only one explanation for this: She was truly the last one to know. It would not leave her mind, even though she was trying to push it away from her thoughts, knowing how vital it was that she was paying attention, as every decision she made could have the utmost devastating consequences if they were not well thought out.

“Good morning, Your Worship.” Her darting pale eyes spoke of her concern, yet Eleonor Lenné still managed one of her effortless diplomatic smiles, the sort that was able to loosen all tensions in the room. Thankfully, it did the same with Line. She picked a loose thread from her embroidered silken blouse before returning her gaze to the board in her hand. As usual, it was full of well-organised notes that would probably come in handy during their meeting.

“And to you, Lady Ambassador.” She turned her head further to look at Eleonor’s brother. “And you, General.”

He only nodded respectfully and opened the heavy door for them, holding it open so they would be able to walk into the room. “Inquisitor.”

She made her way to the war table that stood right at the centre of the room, illuminated by the tall glass windows that were embedded into the surrounding stonewalls. The heavy wooden door snapped shut behind her and the advisors came to join her at the table, one by one.

Friedrich Pentaghast was the last one to arrive, his gloved hands running hectically through his fair hair to make sure it was still in order while also maintaining his cool exterior. That was his job, after all: making hard decisions regarding their military strength, even under the most stressful circumstances.

“The last of my scouts’ reports came from the Heartlands.” He carefully placed a stack of parchments onto the table. “It seems like they gathered into a fairly large horde right here in the Western Approach.” Line’s eyes followed his hand gesture and examined the western end of the map of Thedas that spread across the table. “It gave my scouts some time. But now they’ve accelerated their pace, and they’re heading for Skyhold. Every village in Orlais that was in their way, however small it may have been, has been completely burned down and tainted.”

Charly placed a small tin figure onto the centre map. “My ravens deliver new reports every three hours. It’s a fair guess that they’re near Halamshiral right now.” Her finger ran the way from Halamshiral, where she had put the tin figure, to Skyhold in the east. “It will probably be two days until they’ll get here.”

“We don’t know for sure if Skyhold and Skyhaven are their destinations since we can’t exactly ask them.” Eleonor clarified with a side look to her brother and Charly. “But we can’t leave it to chance either. We have to prepare the city for a darkspawn siege.”

Friedrich agreed. “We’ll deploy trebuchets and send the Wardens. It’s best to concentrate on Skyhaven; Skyhold is safe enough once we pull in the drawbridge. As long as we can hold Skyhaven, Skyhold can be supplied if necessary.”

The loud creaking of the door interrupted their already deep conversation. All of their heads turned around to face the two intruders.

“Already starting without us, I see.”

Paul Trevelyan was carrying the light-hearted smile he was known for, and she could see his already light blue eyes brightening as he slipped into the midst of Line’s advisors as easily as a fish in the water.

“Care to enlighten us what this is all about?”

“Yes….” Warden-Constable Henriette was stepping closer as well. “It is not often that I am graced with my presence being required in this room. What might be the occasion?”

As petty as it was, she was relieved that there had been others who had been kept in the dark just as much as she had, if not more. Not that she would voice any of that aloud, but it put her mind a bit more at ease, and let her concentrate on the task at hand.

“We will need your Wardens to do what they do best: fighting darkspawn. There’s a huge horde on its way, and we have to be prepared when they reach Skyhaven,” Line summarised quickly for Henriette.

“Wait, what? _Darkspawn_? “ Paul exclaimed incredulously.

“We might also use the Seekers.” Friedrich added while exchanging a look with Paul, who was Lord Seeker and therefore responsible for all the Seekers that were in Skyhold and Skyhaven. “There seem to be many magic users among the darkspawn.”

It seemed like the most logical thing to do: Seekers were immune to almost all magic and demons, they could dispel hostile magic around them and even manipulate the lyrium inside the user’s body – mage and Templar alike. It made this organisation of the Chantry effective in hunting down rogue Templars and mages they deemed dangerous.

“That might be difficult,” Henriette interjected. “Darkspawn magic is inherently different from the magic normal mages use. I’m not sure if the Seekers can handle it just as well. “

“We can’t. They don’t use lyrium,” Paul admitted and sighed. “Nevertheless, we can station them in Skyhaven as an elite troop, just in case things get hairy.”

“Good. We’d best keep this as defensive as possible to avoid any losses, if we can manage.” Charly looked deep in thought.

“The last thing we need is a Blight spreading in Skyhaven,“ Friedrich agreed and gathered his parchments again. “I’ll send word to the troops so they’ll gather in the city.”

Line nodded in agreement, mentally going through the list of their defenses; they had their Wardens, they had the Seekers, and they had the Inquisition’s army, which would hold Skyhaven before the horde could breach their defenses. There would be other things too, of course, not all defenses consisted of soldiers, after all. Nevertheless, she trusted her General’s knowledge of sieges more than her own, and he and Charly would know exactly which additional precautions were going to be needed.

“Let’s discuss the rest of our tactics in Skyhaven. We have no time to lose.” She nodded again, and they immediately knew that the Inquisitor had ended the meeting for now. Friedrich hurried out of the room, his notes in hand. The rest of them stayed behind, leaving the room as well, but at the same pace as Line. They crossed the small corridor and stopped shortly in Eleonor’s office.

“I will stay behind in Skyhold for now.” She suggested. “Explain the situation to everyone. Make sure there won’t be any panic breaking out. “

“Good thinking…” The more Line thought about it, the more she could see the Ambassador’s value in Skyhold itself, as opposed to her coming with them, where there might be fighting. “But then again, it would be best if you stayed here altogether, keep order, you know? We will keep in contact with ravens.”

“You may be right,” she pondered. ”All right, I will stay here and inform you should anything go awry. You stay safe, though.”

“Don’t worry about us.” Line gave her a cocky smile. “You know we can take care of ourselves.”

And with that, she left the office, followed by Paul, Henriette and Charly. After a quick visit to the armory and the stables, they were ready to ride to the city, which lay at the foot of the mountains upon which Skyhold had been built many centuries ago.

Upon arrival, they climbed up the stairs to the city walls. It was a good place to plan the strategy of their defense as from that point, they could regard every position around them. Friedrich’s army that now followed them down the mountain was already in sight, banners in hand and a number five times larger than to be expected of a stronghold such as Skyhold. It was an awe-inspiring sight for anyone to behold.

_Anyone who’d dare attack us, darkspawn or not, is truly mad._

 

With thunderous booming, the Inquisitor woke up from the deepest phase of her dreams. It took her a moment to fully regain consciousness, the loud noise still ringing in her ears, growing louder every moment she still spent on lying in her sleeping quarters. With much quickness, she got up, ignoring the immediate aching that rushed to her head. The horn was still booming in the distance; it could only mean the darkspawn horde had been sighted. This was what they had prepared for the last two days, and they were ready. A small headache was not going to stand in her way. She put on her armour and grabbed her sword. Then stepped outside.

The sky was still pitch-black, but lamps illuminated the streets as if it was early evening. Soldiers seemed to be everywhere, and they greeted Line as she walked by them, on her way to the city walls where she would meet the others. They appeared to be on edge. It had been a long time since the Inquisition had been threatened in its own holdings, and she was sure that for most, it was the first time it happened. Friedrich had prepared them well, however. They were ready for what was ahead.

A barrel stood in the corner, filled with the rainwater of the last month. Still ice-cold, no doubt. It was barely spring, after all. Line approached it and reached inside, feeling it instantly cool her fingers. She formed a bowl with both of her hands, filled it with as much cold water as she could carry and emptied it onto her face. A chill ran through her, but she immediately felt all remaining fatigue vanish from her body. This was how she needed to be. She hurried up the stairs to the city walls.

The Constable, General and Spymaster were already present. They only fleetingly greeted her, having their attention directed towards the distance. Line followed their gaze and was not surprised to see thousands of lights in a sea of darkness, moving and drawing closer.  

There was a noise of someone yawning and dragging their feet nearby, so she turned her head to look for the culprit. Not that she would have needed to, her husband’s noises were recognisable enough. Obviously, Paul was still caught up in being woken so early. The horn sounded again – only much louder this time. They were closer to it here than in their sleeping quarters. He covered his ears to muffle the noise and stepped next to them, looking into the distance just like they had all been doing.

“Andraste’s flaming ass, is this a Blight?” The Lord Seeker seemed to have noticed his sacrilegious tone, so he turned his head upwards to mumble his apologies to his sister, who happened to be the Divine.

“This _does_ remind me of the reports I read of Ostagar.” Henriette remarked.

“A great force –overconfident– underestimating the sheer numbers of their enemy. I can see the parallels.”  Paul’s eyes went fleetingly over his companions. “And, mind you, it’s not reassuring.”

Line cut in before these seeds of doubt could spread any further.

“Matthew Theirin was just a dumb boy playing war.” Her voice was sharp, her eyes still fixed on the enemy. “But I’m no moronic king. The Inquisition is prepared.”

Paul smiled. “Just don’t get crushed by an ogre, okay? I’ve heard it made him _really_ ugly.”

She just slightly rolled her eyes and turned to Friedrich. “We need the archers to be ready. When the time’s right, we’ll give them fire.”

“Will do, Inquisitor. We have the upper hand anyway, with the broad view we got here and the darkspawn having to fight their way up the mountain. Nonetheless… I’m worried about the wind.” With a troubled look, he examined the field in front of him. “I’m not sure if the archers will hit the pitch ditches right away.” His eyes scanned further up ahead to the horde. “They’ll be within reach in about 10 minutes.”

There was not much time left, so he went off to sound the final alarms. The shouts rallied the soldiers, and she could already see the first archers positioning themselves on the battlements. Paul and Henriette left, each to speak with the Seekers and the Wardens and to inform them about the upcoming attack. The Seekers were to protect civilians at the chantry, which she hoped wouldn’t be necessary, but still, they had to be prepared in the event of the darkspawn managing to breach their walls.

Line watched her husband and the Warden Constable disappear into the midst of the soldiers, and remained behind with Charly. With Friedrich as well, though he had turned his attention to nearby soldiers, probably to go over the plan of attack once again. He was nothing if not thorough, which of course was perfect for his work as General.

Her Spymaster was still watching the horde, and Line re-joined her in doing just that.

“It’s strange, though,” she started hesitantly. “If this was a Blight, the Wardens would have had dreams accordingly. There haven’t been any reports of that kind.” Charly paused and lowered her voice. “It might be possible the Warden-Constable doesn’t tell us everything. We have to be alert.”

Line nodded sternly. Not being able to trust the Wardens completely was nothing new for her; she had conscripted them into the Inquisition’s ranks by force, after all. Nevertheless, they should have been able to trust Henriette at least. They had made her the Warden’s leader because she had proven to be reliable. If she followed her own goals, they had to be aware of that, and prevent it, should it interfere with the Inquisition’s.

“Keep a close eye on her, then.”

Charly’s eyes were still on the horde in front of them for now, though. It had advanced further, being approximately 400 metres away from the walls when it came to a sudden halt.

“They’re clearly organised. This happens only during Blights.”

Line reached for a nearby telescope and examined the darkspawn up close. She had fought many of them in the last years, but always in small groups, scattered, who had somehow found a way out of the Deep Roads and raided their surroundings randomly. It had been nothing like this: darkspawn lining up to go to war like an actual army. They had stopped moving for several minutes now. This close, however, she could make out some movement. Not of the horde itself, but there was one…. no, three darkspawn moving out of line, separating themselves from the horde. She furrowed her brows in surprise. Not only were they acting separately from the horde, they were on horseback. And approaching the city walls.

She handed Charly the telescope so that she could look herself, still processing and trying to articulate what she had just seen.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think this looks like they’re trying to negotiate.”

“…I think you’re right.”

The three darkspawn stopped at about 100 metres in front of the gate und looked up to them.

Friedrich was quickly heading towards Line. She wrinkled her nose.

“This must be some kind of bad joke.”

“So far it seems they’ve only mastered basic military decency.” Charly pondered. “If they’ve also developed a sense of humour remains to be seen.”

“I don’t like it, but Adaar’s right. We should… talk to them?”

Friedrich didn't sound sure about it, though. It might have something to do with the fact that darkspawn usually didn’t talk. At all.

“Or at least try to communicate.”

It still seemed like a joke to Line, negotiating with darkspawn, but she was not going to argue against the advice she was given. And she was curious, too. Something like this had never occurred before; there was no way to know what was going to happen. It was their duty to investigate, whatever the outcome was going to be.

The three of them headed down the stairs and towards the massive city gates. Their horses were already prepared when they arrived; after all, the battle had been just about to start, before these darkspawn had started behaving in a weird fashion. She climbed her horse alongside her two advisors, watching as the soldiers on the wall cranked the gates open for them. As it opened, they had a good view on the three darkspawn and their horses. She and the others rode towards them, with a close eye on every move they made, which was not much. They stayed exactly where they stood, apparently waiting for the Inquisition to arrive and speak to them. She could see which kind of darkspawn they were, now; hurlocks, the darkspawn that were the most human in appearance, in comparison to other darkspawn like genlocks and ogres and shrieks.

The one in the middle opened its mouth and formed words, slowly and brokenly and in a deep, raspy voice.

“Greetings, Inquisition. We ask to pass the valley. Peaceful.”

Line stared at it in disbelief. A talking darkspawn was not something to see and hear every day. She was inclined to believe this had never happened to her before, but that was simply not quite true. Apart from the occaisonal Darkspawn Emissary, she had encountered a talking, sentient darkspawn before, though a very different one. His name had been Corypheus, and he had threatened Thedas all those years ago. He had been one of the reasons the Inquisition had formed at all; one of the ancient Tevinter magisters who had broken into the golden city and become the first darkspawn, disfigured but powerful and almost immortal versions of themselves. That was centuries ago, though, and they had all been sealed away some way or another. Only that Corypheus had been freed by Nikolai Hawke, who had thought to have killed him. Being as good as immortal, he later returned, and tried to take over Thedas and find another way to enter the Fade physically as he had before, this time to become a god himself. They had needed to stop him and his cohorts, and free the Wardens he had enslaved of his control. In the end, she had managed to defeat him and foil all his plans, though it had not been easy. That was the only talking darkspawn she knew of, and he was dead, she was sure of it. These three looked like any other hurlock did, and not at all like Corypheus with his deformations but still much more human appearance. Still, she wondered if they were like him, three more former magisters. It was the only explanation she had for their ability to speak.

A quick look at her advisors told her they were just as confused as she was, but made no move to speak and communicate with the creatures in front of them. Line took this as a sign that they left this task to her, so she tried to put Corypheus to the back of her mind and concentrate on the darkspawn’s words.

“Why does such a big darkspawn army want to pass the valley?”

“And why should we trust you?” Friedrich now joined in. “You burned down entire villages in Orlais.”

“We were not allowed to pass peaceful.”

Line had no patience for eluding answers.

“I will not repeat myself again: why do you want to pass the valley."

The darkspawn turned to look at each other now, as if to confer what to reply.

“Destination is Deep Roads,” one of them finally answered. “The land called Ferelden.”

The answer was not very satisfying. They did not know what the darkspawn intended in Ferelden, but surely it wasn’t anything good. Letting them pass was completely out of the question. She turned to her companions and saw that neither of them trusted the darkspawn’s words either.

“What’s the point? Why do you believe we would just let you run to Ferelden?”

“We want no war with Ferelden or Inquisition, just want to pass.”

It seemed to be the only thing they were able to tell them, so Line decided to conclude their ‘negotiations’.

“It’s not going to happen.” She said sharply.

Charly spoke up, apparently still hopeful to get more information out of these three.

“What would you do once you’re in Ferelden? Why is it so important to get there?”

The hurlock was hesitant. “We cannot say.”

“Then we really cannot let your kind pass.” Friedrich said in conclusion.

The darkspawn seemed almost sad at that answer, and when it spoke, it even sounded upset.

“But then we have to fight!”

Line’s tone was ice cold. “So be it.”

They turned their horses around; there was nothing left to say.

A thump and the clank of swords behind them told her that the darkspawn’s attack was coming sooner than she had anticipated. She turned around again to see the three darkspawn now on foot, with their swords in hand.

“I know you’re new to this, but that’s not how negotiations work.”

Her words meant nothing to them now, though, so she dismounted with an annoyed look. Her advisors were readying themselves as well by grabbing onto their staff and sword, but she would not need them, so she gestured them to stay where they were. This, she could handle herself.

She grabbed behind herself to hold onto the hilt of her sword and loosened it from its belt by pulling it towards her. It was huge; almost as tall as she was and twice as wide as her arm. She held it in both her hands and walked towards the darkspawn in fast, deadly steps.

Her eyes were fixed on them, and they were eyeing each other for a second. The horses started getting restless.

At once, all three darkspawn ran towards Line, their weapons in front of them to strike her down at the first opportunity. She would not give them the chance.

She charged, feeling her blood burning up as her rage grew. The pulse of her blood in her ears was loud, and it numbed the sound of flesh tearing apart in front of her. It was over before she could even really start, before she could completely lose herself in the fight. She had reaved right through all three of them, and their remnants now lay scattered on the floor. It felt good, though. Her blade was drenched in the black darkspawn blood, and she felt it dripping off her chin. She fastened her weapon on her back and returned to her horse.

“That was not wise, Inquisitor. Their blood carries the taint.”

Line waved her hand to dismiss her spymaster’s concerns as they galloped back to the city.

“Cast a cleansing spell or something. We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

When they got off their horses back in Skyhaven it was exactly the first thing Charly did. Line felt the magic tingling on her skin and through her body, and she inevitably shivered, despite the multiple layers of cloth and armour she was wearing.

“You can’t rely on those spells completely, you know. They don’t always work one hundred percent.”

She wanted to answer, but she saw Paul approaching from the Chantry.

“What. Was. That?” He asked out of breath and not to Line’s surprise, grinning. “Did I just watch you guys talk to darkspawn? What’d they say? Did they share some of their recipes for delicious Legion-of-the-Dead-Pie? Oh, oh! Did you ask how Matthew Theirin tasted? My bet’s bad ale and wet dog! Hah! Fereldans, am I right?”

Line could already see Friedrich rushing back to the city walls. She had no patience for Paul’s antics now, as she had to join her General to watch what the horde was doing, and didn’t have any time to explain in full detail what had just happened.

“Not now, Seeker. Go back to your post, we need you there.”

Just as she was heading to the battlements, there was another voice behind her demanding answers, only this time it was Henriette’s. Line decided to ignore it, leaving the talking to Charly, who thankfully was still behind her to engage the Warden in conversation. She hurried up the stairs and stared at the field beneath them.

There was a sound right next to her of someone being in awe, and when Line turned her head, she saw that it was Paul who was standing next to her, with his mouth agape. Annoyance spread through her once again. Of course, the Lord Seeker didn’t need follow her orders, as he was not her subordinate; he even was one of the few most high-ranking members of both military organisations of the Chantry, and moreover, the Seekers of Truth were an elite group among military organisations in general. Nevertheless, it still irked her that he had simply disregarded her words, even though it should have been clear where his place in this battle was supposed to be.

“Maker, these’ve got to be the dumbest darkspawn I’ve ever encountered. And none of those were geniuses either,” he said and shook his head, chuckling.

Line just gave him an agitated look, as she was clearly not in the mood to joke around right now, before taking a look at it herself; it was hard to see anything clearly, though, as the view of the battlefield was blocked by heavy, dense smoke. There were, however, still many darkspawn below; she could spot them here and there, where the smoke was less thick.

Friedrich approached them, still eying the field with the telescope. “I saw both their flanks move to the middle before they started lighting up everything. This makes no sense.”

“Why burn out themselves? They’ll be dead before they reach our walls, if they even get that far.” Paul shook his head incomprehensibly.

“A poor stealth manoeuvre possibly.” The General speculated. “Foolish in this type of terrain. With the downfall winds of the valley, the smoke will stay in the valley and suffocate a lot of them.”

It didn’t come as a surprise to Line that the darkspawn had not yet mastered the more advanced war tactics. Their attempt at negotiations had been frail to say the least. Some of them had some kind of intelligence, otherwise they would not even have come up with negotiations at all, and they had been able to speak. She wished she knew how many more of that kind were down there, and how common this type of darkspawn was. Judging from their tactics, however, she could only assume the darkspawn she had met had been exceptions.

“I guess darkspawn make bad warlords after all.” She said, only the slightest bit relieved.

Charly’s voice behind her caught her attention and made her turn around.

“Inquisitor, you should listen to what the Warden Constable has to say.”

Line’s eyes drifted from Charly to Henriette and back to Charly, when the Spymaster gestured to the stairs, signalling that this conversation was going to be important, and was going to happen just among the three of them. The Inquisitor nodded, but turned around to Friedrich once again. The darkspawn still took priority, after all.

“I trust you will handle this situation while I’m gone, General Pentaghast.”

Her feet were already moving while she was talking, and without further ado, all her attention was directed at the two women she was now following down the stairs. Henriette started talking, only for her voice to be drowned in the General’s loud “Trebuchet!” from above. She cleared her throat and started anew.

“As I was saying; Lady Adaar informed me of your encounter with the talking darkspawn. If you would be willing to hear my humble opinion on that matter, Lady Inquisitor?”

It would certainly not hurt to hear, and it seemed to be important enough for them to pull her away from the battle and further down the stairs, so she nodded in approval.

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve read a report a few years ago. Frankly every Warden of my rank or higher knows about it; just a few months after the last Blight ended the Warden Commander and Hero of Ferelden met several darkspawn that were able to communicate. That was when she decided to burn Amaranthine to the ground.”

“Ruthless,” Charly commented soberly.

“Most say the city was lost anyway, and Commander Aeducan killed many darkspawn in her action.”

Line shook her head impatiently. “That’s not the point right now. The Inquisition is what matters today, and if you have any information that could help us I’d appreciate if you told me.”

“Those sentient darkspawn—“

“ _Sentient._ ” The Spymaster’s voice was full of doubt.

Henriette would not let herself be deterred, though, and continued without any concern for her listener’s interjection. “Those sentient darkspawn were led by another darkspawn. That one was special though, and called itself ‘the Architect’.”

It seemed there were even more of them, after all; more of these special darkspawn. Line wondered if there was indeed a connection to Corypheus, even though he had not led any darkspawn that were able to communicate. At least to her knowledge. If that had been the case, Charly would have told her. In fact, the piece of information she had just received from the Warden Constable was another case of something her Spymaster should have informed her about long ago. She turned towards her and raised her voice accusingly.

“How come I hear of this just now? It happened years ago. Would’ve been interesting to know, _Spymaster_. Don’t you think?”

Charly’s lips turned into two thin lines. Line could see that it bothered her Spymaster just as much as herself. When the qunari opened her mouth again the Inquisitor could almost feel the resentment surrounding her.

“... I have never heard anything of the sort.”

“The First Warden decided to make it a secret.” Henriette paused for emphasis. “A well-kept secret.”

Once again this night, Line’s patience was starting to wear thin. She did not like being kept in the dark at all, least of all by those she had conscripted into her service. Their duty should always be to her first, not to the First Warden that was far away in the Anderfels, and on top of that, had severed all contact to the Inquisition’s Wardens. So well-kept secrets among her Wardens were disturbing enough, even without their actual content of talking and communicating darkspawn.

“The Wardens of Orlais only answer to the Inquisition.” She tried to make clear in an icy, commanding tone. “Your secrets are _our_ secrets.”

Silence followed. Henriette’s gaze down to the Inquisitor became noticeably colder, but Line would not demean herself by breaking their eye-contact first. Finally, the Warden Constable smiled her thin, veiled smile. It did not reach her eyes.

“Of course, Inquisitor.”

There were still many things they had to discuss, this piece of information could be vital for their fight, and the Inquisition would need to know everything about these special darkspawn there was to know. Before she could question Henriette further, however, every surrounding noise was drowned in the trebuchets’ tremendous convulsions. Her thoughts turned back to the immediate battle at hand, wanted to know where they stood and how much they were still in control of the situation. Luckily, as if he had been called, Paul came down the stairs and towards them to bring news of the battlefield.

“This is a joke, at this rate, the horde will be annihilated before noon. Friedrich says it’s almost too easy. We think they might scatter though. If that’s the case we should probably send out some Wardens to capture one or two of the shitters. You say they can talk, I say we can question folk that talks, sounds like a plan?”

Much to her dismay, Line noticed that he had posed the question to Henriette instead of to her.

“First, we have to fend the siege off.” She cut in grimly before the Warden could reply. “Second, the Wardens are subordinates of the Inquisition. Not of your Seekers. It’s _my_ decision, so you should be asking me first.”

“Oh, yes. Speaking of Seekers, I better head back to the Chantry and calm down the common folk,” he suddenly remembered, taking off fast before facing the inevitable retort that exactly that had been his duty all along. Her husband would never change.

With a sigh, she turned to Charly, who was already addressing her.

“I will go as well and send a raven back to Skyhold. It has been quiet, and we better ask Eleonor for the current situation up there.”

With a gesture of her hand, she indicated for the two women in front of her to stay with her for another moment.

“We will continue this conversation later. This is important news, Warden Constable.”

And with that, she turned around and climbed the battlements’ steps once again, watching the two out of the corner of her eyes. Charly did exactly what she had announced, and Henriette was heading back to her Wardens, her red curls being easily recognisable among the crowd. Once she stepped back next to her General and took an overview of the battlefield, Friedrich was already handing her the telescope.

“They’re going down by the dozens.”

Even enlarged, it was hard to tell what exactly was happening down at the place in question; it was completely covered in smoke, only occasionally some stray darkspawn crossed her sight, clearly on fire. Some fell down, bereft of life. Others just walked across the battlefield, having lost all sense of orientation.

Line shook her head uncomprehendingly. “They destroyed themselves. Why are they not fleeing.”

“Maker knows. There must be at least a few thousand of them left in that fire.”

 

Up until when the sun had risen to its highest reaching point, the battlefield’s raging fire had neither stopped nor declined. On the contrary; for now it had spread to the surrounding trees carried by the strong downslope wind in the valley. If the General’s scouts were to arrive and call the situation under control, they could think about keeping the flames at bay, as to not damage their timber trades too much. After all, Line was still a Dalish and thinking sustainably was of great importance for her people. Eleonor would have agreed, too, she was certain. A band of mages could surely get the fire’s damage to a minimum but sending them out right now would cause Friedrich to object.

Line let out a small sigh. Here she was thinking about timber and gold when Skyhaven was technically still under siege. Sometimes the Inquisition’s power seemed surreal to her, like nothing could stop it. But at the same time she knew she could not and would not allow herself or her closest ring to get carried away. It was important to take every threat seriously, which was part of the reason their movement had been successful in the past.

Next to her, a chair scraped over the inn’s dusty, wooden floor of the inn. It was the Lord Seeker, having returned from the counter with a new mug in his hands. He was still talking to one of the soldiers who had occupied the tables next to them, trying to get a few glances at their commanding officers and to maybe overhear one or two secrets. The young soldier woman’s cheeks flushed with red as she listened to Paul, a common side effect with those who didn’t know him better and only saw him as the legendary and shiny Hero of Orlais. Line could only shake her head over Orlais’ typical hero worshipping. No, Orlais was no place she felt comfortable at.

“If you will excuse me, dear… There are top secret matters I have to discuss with our Lady Inquisitor and Lady Adaar. Also, I’m really really thirsty.”

The soldier’s childish giggle as she returned to her seat signalised Line that Paul had ceased his idle chatter. She was used to his flirting and didn’t mind, since she knew that it was all for show. He had to maintain a certain image. Line knew that Paul would always be true to her and she anticipated the moment when they would be back at Skyhold, able to leave work behind. Work was the place they disagreed most at.

“I can’t believe women still go for you.”, Charly said looking slightly amused as she raised her cup of water to her lips.

Paul just laughed.

“Not just women. You should see the folk at the balls at Val Royeaux. I like to think of myself as a finely aged West Hill Brandy.”

“Are you sure you’re not just a really old bottle of Dragon’s Piss?”

“Touché, my horned, and dare I mention, just as old, friend who is much more dragon-y looking.”

“I don’t age. My skin is as smooth as a Dalish baby butt.”   

“I will not make any friends by disagreeing, so… A good strategist knows when his battle is lost. Miss Charly Adaar, you are indeed, a buttface.”, Paul responded abruptly.

There was a moment of silence, then a deep laugh coming from the qunari mage’s direction, a stomping sound and an anguished yelp out of Paul’s throat which turned into a jolly giggle as he raised his cup again. His expression turned into that typical insolent smirk again.   

Though she had remained silent over their banter, Line now noticed Paul’s steel blue eyes resting on her. He was still grinning over his shenanigans with Charly but the Inquisitor could tell that her husband was about to adopt a more serious tone. Of course, she knew he cared deeply for the Inquisition, after all, it was him and his sister who had been its original founders. His laid-back attitude, however,  made it hard to remember that sometimes when things got grave. His gaze shifted at the ecstatic, celebrating soldiers and both Line and Charly exchanged a short glance. It seemed the Spymaster knew what the Lord Seeker would have to say, before he had even opened his mouth, which was not hard; they were all thinking the same thing.

“It was way too easy,” he sighed, and a strand of greying brown hair fell into his face. “My gut tells me our sweet lil’ asses should prepare for some spanking… My gut’s usually right.”

Adaar took a sip of water and seemed to ponder.

“Eleonor’s ravens confirm that everything has been quiet at Skyhold. Nothing indicates trouble.”  
The doors of the tavern swung wide open. Accompanied by a freezing breeze and a handful of soldiers the General entered. His coat fluttered behind him as the tall, blond man swiftly made his way through the central aisle, past his saluting men, towards Line and the two other council members. His serious demeanor, usually very welcomed by Line in most situations where it was appropriate, seemed to be foreboding now, and confirming both what she had been thinking all along and Paul had said out loud; there was more to this than what they had seen so far. When he got close enough to lean in to mutter “Inquisitor, we might have a problem.”

Paul shrugged..

“And there it is, my friends,” he sighed.

Friedrich pulled over a chair from the neighboring table and took a seat next to Line. Her face gave no indication of surprise since his proclamation was not unexpected at all, even if things had seemed calm the last few hours. Everything had been far too convenient, and she rather liked to assume the worst than to relax and be taken by surprise by any bad news.

“What’s the situation, General?”, she asked.

He hesitated for a moment, casting a side glance at the young soldiers who both tried to look like they were not listening and doing their best to still make out the General’s words, so he continued to speak in a lowered voice: “It was already safe enough to send some of the Wardens to scout the area. They’ve come back now, but the number of bodies they counted was much too low. About 200. You know how many had been there in the night, we estimated about 1500.” He paused. “A thousand darkspawn don’t just disappear into thin air.” Friedrich straightened with a clearly frustrated expression. “That just doesn’t happen. Even if we take into consideration that some might have scattered.”

When no one replied, he continued, almost whispering, “I’ve sent the scouts back to look again, search for signs of retreat…. Nothing.”

The confused silence kept on. It was hard to believe that over a thousand darkspawn had just vanished into thin air. Line hardly had any time to think about it, though, because the door swung open, again framing a tall figure moving towards them. A battered looking qunari with large horns like a ram made his way through the soldiers, right towards Line and her consultants. He did not wear the Inquisition’s armour but Line could catch a glimpse at the necklace that was dangling from his beefy neck right down to his chest. It was the pierced all-seeing eye of the Inquisition - he was likely one of Charly’s mercenary men. They were so many in all sorts of places that it was a small wonder how the Spymaster was able to keep track of each and everyone of them. Without bothering to ask for permission, he grabbed Paul’s cup and emptied it swiftly in just a few gulps.

When he was done, he raised his voice accusingly, “Vashedan. that’s no wine.”

“Do you mind?” The Lod Seeker snatched back his cup from the qunari. “I’m on duty, you ox!”

“Yeah, whatever.”, the qunari agent snarled back.

“Asaara, what is it?”, Charly asked in a calm but demanding tone and thus called the mercenary’s attention back to the matter at hand.

“Adaar, my group was on their trail for like… at least five days. Bastards moved so fast, we could barely keep up. So today they arrived here n’ we thought ‘yeah dumb idiots run right into the home of the most badass elf in Thedas, see what you’ll get out of it.’ Then they start lighting the trees on fire. T’was nasty. Wind was nasty too.”

They were all staring at him intently, probably hoping he was going to shed some light on the darkspawns’ fate and why they would make use of such suicidal tactics. At least that was what Line was expecting now. They were going to need any information they could get their hands on to solve this puzzle.

Asaara paused and looked at Charly. “We get a raise for that, right, ‘cause I promised my guys a raise.”

“Keep going, please.” She said without blinking an eye.

“Damn shame, Adaar. Damn shame… I’ll get back to it. So anyways, when their tiny ass flanks started moving we knew something was fishy, so me n’ the guys went n’ got closer.”

His hand extended towards Paul’s cup again, but since it was empty, Charly pushed hers over instead and Asaara, nodding in thanks, emptied that one as well. He’d probably wouldn’t dare to touch the Inquisitor’s drink, Line assumed.

“That’s when we noticed they were splitting up. Going underground.”

“ _Underground_?” Paul’s voice sounded alarmed.

“Yeah underground as in ‘Deep Roads’. Fire n’ smoke was so bad we decided to follow. We hid. T’was fucking scary, that new elf almost shat himself. Anyway, we were sittin’ n’ hidin’ but the darkspawn never stop. It goes on for hours while that fire’s still burning up there. Just got out now. Damn, pretty sure Aban was tainted. Think the Grey Wardens would take a qunari?”

Charly only sighed and pondered, while Friedrich immediately stood up, his eyes full of apprehension.

“So that means they could be below us right now? Thousands of them, right underneath the city?”

The Spymaster didn’t appear to be phased at all. She was still sitting, folding her hands and continued to ponder. “There are no entrances to the Deep Roads in Skyhaven.”

“Alarming nonetheless!”

The conversation with the talking darkspawn was still fresh in the Inquisitor’s mind. They had been very clear about their objective, actually, so unless they had been lying, the Inquisition’s primary worry should not be concentrated on Skyhaven, but somewhere else.

“They _said_ they wanted to pass the valley and get to Ferelden...”, Line finally said.

Paul was leaning back on his chair, letting out a faint sigh. “Damn.”

Without any further hesitation, Line got up and looked at Charly.

“Send word to the Arls and Banns. And also King Matthew Theirin at Denerim. Friedrich, ready the troops, we march.”

With big astonished eyes, Paul just silently looked back and forth between those present. Line just turned around, signalising him and Friedrich to follow her back outside for another crisis meeting. From the corners of her eyes she could spot General Pentaghast wiping the sweat from his forehead with a piece of cloth.  

“Maker, the last thing Ferelden needs is another Blight….”


	7. Frieda II

**6**

 

_"This is bigger than a murder," the comte hissed,_

_eyes flicking to the door._

_"Dunwald drew the attention of great powers._

_When dragons do battle, guardsman,_

_mortal men can only take cover._

_Drop the case. Don't draw their gaze ."_

**\- “Hard in Hightown”, Chapter 3 by Nikolai Hawke**

  
  


**“And those mince pies might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten!”**

“Don’t forget the little lemon cakes.”

“Oh, believe me, I couldn’t.” Chris lowered his head with a dramatic sigh. “I’m going to dream of these lemon cakes for the next few weeks, I’m sure.”

Frieda chuckled at that and sighed, relieved that his first encounter with Orlesians had obviously been a positive one, as hers had been less than ideal. Being born in Kirkwall and spending his whole life there, Christian had had little reason to visit Orlais, or really anything outside of the City State in the Free Marches. For her, it had been quite the opposite; especially when she and her twin brother had been small, they had moved around a lot between little villages in Ferelden, and only settled down in the village Lothering when they were bigger. It had not been  so bad, though. She had always liked seeing new places, as long as it was together with her family. But they were all gone now. She swallowed hard and distracted herself by re-joining the conversation, refusing to be sad about it all the time. It had been almost all she had done for the past few years, after all.

“You might have to only dream of them.” She said eventually. “We won’t be going to another city until we reach Ghislain. But maybe we can go there again, on our way back.”

“Don’t worry. Their memory will sustain me until then.” Chris gave her the goofy kind of smile that always managed to cheer her up.

They had been travelling with a few merchants they had met in Val Royeaux, since travelling in larger groups was always safer than going off alone. So far, however, there had been no trouble on the roads, and it would not be very far until Ghislain anymore, the place where her brother’s body had been found. It was highly unlikely that they would find any clues as to what happened to him. Or so Frieda told herself, despite hoping for the opposite. She needed this, just to let go, to make it seem more real. There had been too many nights of waking up from yet another elaborate dream with some explanation of why Niki could still be alive. It hurt too much to realise that he was gone for good, every single time. This would help, or at least she sincerely hoped so.

She glanced over to Chris, who was riding on one of the two horses they had bought near the Orlesian capital. “Do you think we’ll find anything?”

He didn’t reply immediately, instead taking a look at Frieda’s face first, as if examining her mood. Then he shrugged. “Who knows? We could find all sorts of things. Look, don’t worry about it too much. We will see when we get there.”

“You know I can’t help it…” She sighed heavily and hid her face behind one hand. “I just don’t know if we’ll just end up empty handed and this will all be a huge waste of time.”

“Hey.” He stretched the word to make it much longer than it originally would have been. “Hey, Frieda. Look at me.”

She lowered her palm again to look at his face. It was solemn, and without any smile this time.

“Do you want to go to Ghislain? Will you feel better if we go there?”

“I… guess….” She pondered, before correcting herself. “No, yes, I definitely want to go there.”

“See?” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Then it’s not a waste of time. Anything that might make you feel better and more at peace could never be a waste of time, ever.”

In moments like these, when she felt a wave of relief wash away her doubts and leave only confidence and happiness, she wondered how it could be that she was the mage and not him, for what he did to her with those words was far more magical than anything she could do with a staff. She turned ahead again, but the little smile that had formed when he had spoken would not leave her lips.

“One other thing, though.” She heard him say beside her. Without looking at him, and still smiling, she encouraged him to go on.

“That note you got… I’ve been dying to ask you. Do you by chance know anything about the sender?”

The oddly excited tone in his voice gave her pause, and she turned her head to look at him once more, just to see if he was truly this excited about the agent who had sent her the note from Weisshaupt.

“You mean Valo-kas?”

“Yes!” His voice was becoming more high-pitched, and, much to her amusement, slightly tuny.

“I only know what everybody knows about him.”

He gasped.

“So it really is him?”

The correspondence between the secret agent and her had not exactly allowed her to ask any personal questions, especially since the notes could have been intercepted, and really, it would never have occurred to her to ask about his identity when the reason for their communication was that much different, and, to her, much more important. This was not something Chris would have liked to hear, however, so she just shrugged with a smile.

“I suppose so…?”

“This is amazing.” His eyes glistened brightly. “The famous Valo-kas, hero of the Inquisition, companion of the Inquisitor and the Champion of Kirkwall, slayer of dragons and giants, always in his armour, and always on his trusty battle nug, Penelopé. Leader of his famed qunari mercenary group and the bravest qunari warrior in existence. Lover of many, beloved by all. That’s what they say. And you’re passing _notes_ with him.”

For a moment, she sought to find the right words for this display of affection. It was sweet how much he liked the stories her brother had written about this man’s adventures, but this was more than mere liking. Christian seemed to worship this Valo-kas. She laughed when he let out a dreamy sigh.

“Oh my, Chris, I had no idea you were in love.”

Instead of his usual quick comeback, he just gave her a long look that she couldn’t quite read.

 

Mentioning Valo-kas had been a mistake. Because the entire next day, it was all he would ever talk about. She had hoped that with her comment about love, it would have been that, but much to her dismay, she had to realise it had only been the beginning, and no comment whatsoever could make him stop for good. At any given moment, Chris managed to find an angle to the situation that invited a recount of Valo-kas’ apparently many, many adventures. She really didn’t mind that he was excited that they were probably going to meet him, but even when they got to Ghislain and talked to their contact, all his thoughts had circled around the infamous qunari warrior. Meeting the old hunter who had found her brother’s body years ago had been very important to her, and the first real step on their journey to find out the truth about Niki’s death. To Chris, however, asking the hunter if he knew any exciting tales about Valo-kas seemed to have been more important.

After a brief sullen look in his direction, she rode further into the forest the hunter had described to them in great detail, including directions to the place of discovery.

“Isn’t this incredible?”

They had more important things to do, and somewhere deep within the forest there was something dangerous they might have to face, but Frieda couldn’t help but to marvel at the beauty of the place. The sun, on the highest point of its course in the sky, sent its rays through the leaf canopy and painted the entire forest in a bright, rich verdurous. High above them, the tree tops rustled softly from the constant breezes that went through them, already well-stocked and thick with lush green leaves, despite it being only early spring. There was something magical about this place, though she couldn’t say if it was just how she felt or if it truly was one of these places being enchanted in ancient times. Whatever the case, the forest was beautiful. And they were all alone, apart from the many animals roaming between and on the trees. In fact, she had never seen so many nugs in one place. The small hairless creatures with their distinctively long ears scampered along the forest floor, without letting themselves be disturbed by the human trespassers. It was remarkable, really. Them and the august rams, horned ungulates with a blue and orange coloured coat that she had never seen outside the books in the Circle, seemed to be the most common inhabitants of this part’s woods, or at least the ones they were mostly seeing. The hunter had told them how people avoided hunting in the forest now, due to the dangerous giant that had taken residence, and the increase of the animals’ population seemed to be a direct result of that. There was no reason to be afraid of humans anymore, only of the giant.

“We have to be very careful.” Chris remarked, so Frieda stopped observing the nature around them and signalled her horse to continue on their marked path. It was the fifth time he had mentioned it now, and it was easy to see how very apprehensive he was. All she could do for now was trying to calm him, and hope that his fears would not be founded.

“We’ll only look if we can find proof that Niki was here alone.”

No matter how painful the memory was, she was never going to forget the day they had come to her and asked to identify her brother’s remains. It had been hard, in more ways than one. Obviously, alone the possibility that Niki could be gone had been impossible to bear, but the remains had been in such a poor condition that it was hard to accept the body as her brother’s: it had already severely decayed, and not everything had been found. There had been, however, tufts of his red curls on its head, and he had been wearing parts of his very torn up armour. Also, much to her horror, she had had to realise that his entire lower body was missing…

Very quickly, she managed to suppress the memory. She would not allow herself to go down that road again, as she had done for the last few years. This was different. Frieda needed to be strong. And, like Chris had mentioned quite a few times, they were going to have to be careful. So she needed to focus, and not think about how almost everyone she had ever loved was gone, no matter how much it still hurt.

Their path led them to a shallow forest river that she recognised from the sketch the hunter had given them of the area. Apart from this occasion, it had not been very accurate or easy to make out, so she was relieved that they were apparently still on the right path.

“If we follow the river downstream, we’ll come straight to the place where the giant has its lair.”

For some time, their horses waded through the shallow water until their way was blocked by a waterfall tumbling down a steep slope and pounding against the rocks below. It was impossible to continue on horseback on this path, and it would be far too dangerous to deviate from their mapped path to find a different one for their horses. And besides, she could see the forest growing thicker below. Navigating the horses with that many trees standing so close to each other would be more of an obstacle than any help. So they dismounted and tied the horses closeby where they would be making their descent.

Chris gave his horse a short, affectionate pat as a parting gesture while Frieda gathered the provisions and weapons they were going to take with them.

“Don’t get eaten, my boy.”

With the giant in the area, Frieda realised, the thought was sadly not that far-fetched. It was better not to dwell on it for too long, or she would have agreed to find another route just so their horses could be safer. They would just hurry, and return to them as soon as they were able. Quickly, and before he could suggest any alternative plan, she took his hand from his horse’s mane in hers and softly urged him on.

The descent along the slope proved to be as difficult as she had assumed; the rocks were slippery from the neighbouring waterfall, and in general not very climb-friendly. More than once, she misstepped and nearly fell, but Chris was descending beneath her, and assured her he would “cushion her fall” if it really happened, which made her laugh, and put her mind a little more at ease. The slope was not so high that they would be seriously injured should a fall actually occur, but slipping and falling down was still a little scary. Luckily, they made it down in one piece, and just as she started being relieved by the solid ground underneath her feet, Frieda felt them sinking into the mud which covered the entire area around the waterfall’s pool.

“Eww.”

She exchanged a disgusted look with Chris, and quickly moved on along the riverside, already feeling her boots soak with wetness. As her feet began to cool, she kind of wished the sun already had more strength, as the warmth it could have provided all the way through the thick treetops would have saved her from freezing as terribly as she was going to. All that it could do for now was shed some light on the way lying up ahead.

The forest seemed more untamed here, she noticed, as they had to navigate carefully through the thicket that blocked their way. There was no real path for them to follow, and she assumed few people ever came to these parts of the woods.

“Still better than Kirkwall, though.” Chris laughed.

His laughter died, however, after being interrupted by a deep, echoing grunt, hardly comparable to anything Frieda had ever heard before. She tensed and stopped her steps. It sounded close-by, so she readied herself for any upcoming danger by gripping onto her staff, while watching Chris do the same with his sword.

Without uttering a sound, his lips formed the word “giant”, paired with a questioning look on his face.

The only answer she could give him was an equally puzzled look, even though she had come to the same conclusion. What else could it be that was so loud, and capable of such a sound?

“Come on.” She whispered, and they continued on their path, more wary than before.

Every sound seemed more dangerous now, and she listened closely, while trying to make as little sound as possible herself. If this truly was the giant, it would be better not to be noticed.

After a few minutes of sneaking, and going along their path, just much more slowly, they heard the noise again. A deep growl ahead of them, only louder this time. And closer. Then footsteps, thumping on the forest floor with overwhelming force.

In front of them, a herd of August Rams raced across the stream, frantically fleeing from their pursuer. The stomping became louder and louder, and that could only mean one thing. And just as Frieda was starting to realise, and dread crept up inside her, there it was: the giant, not more than ten metres in front of them, very much busy with pursuing its prey. Its loud noises, the stomps, the growls, everything was drowned out for a moment, in favour of the blood pumping through her veins and the agitated beat of her heart. Instinctively, she grabbed onto her friend, since it felt like her knees would give way to the muddy earth beneath. But she didn’t fall. Instead, her gaze was still on the stream ahead, where the giant vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Astonishing, how quick it was. How big. And how dangerous it had to be. How much more terrible it must have been up close, and engaged in a fight? She could see her brother now, fighting this monster, all by himself, his daggers being all that stood between him and the giant. The image of his struggle to survive in face of an overpowering enemy was so much more vivid now that she had seen what it looked like, and all she could think about was what her brother must have gone through in his final hours, when he was still alive, still whole…

She felt a hand on her arm that still grabbed onto Chris. With much reluctance, she turned her gaze from the stream to her friend, who immediately let go of her arm again.

“Is everything alright?” His voice was soft, and he probably already knew the answer.

It was enough to break her resolve to see this through bravely, to stay focused without letting her emotions get the better of her. All she could do to answer was give a quick shake of her head, as any verbal reply was rendered impossible by the sudden outburst of a series of sobs, that could not even be silenced when she slapped her hand on her mouth. Control over her body slipped further and further away, and she just indulged in all the sad things she had been feeling for the last few days, but had pushed away from her thoughts. It hurt, and it singed at her heart, but she just couldn’t help it.

Affectionate arms wrapped themselves around her, and she buried her head in his shoulder, holding onto him, holding onto all that was left. It soothed her, as it always did, and for a while, she just stood there, silently crying onto his armour while resting her head against the heavy scarf wrapped around his neck. He was patient, so patient, and not for the first time, she silently thanked the Maker that he had come with her. Without him, she would be lost.

After a long sigh, she let go of him, even though she’d have liked to simply stand with him for much longer, until she forgot all the things that made her sad. But they had to go on. She wiped the wetness from her face and gave him a little smile when she saw how worried he still looked.

“It’s okay, I’ll manage. We can’t stay in one place for too long.”

“Right.” He seemed to relax a bit. “And the horses are waiting, too. You know what they say about leaving horses waiting for too long.”

She really didn’t, but that was hardly the point. It was only a small distraction, but it softened the rawness she still felt from crying at least a little bit. The little smile remained on her face.

They continued to make their way downstream. As it turned out, the thicket was less dense the further they went and before long, they finally stood in front of the cave they’d been searching for. It was dark and uninviting, a huge archway that seemingly led to nothing but blackness. Hopefully, it would lead her to answers. The most notable thing wasn’t how threatening it appeared, however, but that it simply reeked. And if the stench coming from the cave was this bad when they were right in front of it, she could only imagine what it must be like once inside.

“Alright,” she said. “We know for sure that the giant’s gone for now, so let’s use this time to search his lair. Maybe we do find something. Hopefully.”

“Yes, _hopefully_.” He seemed less enthusiastic this time around, looking over his shoulder uneasily. “And here’s to hoping the giant won’t come back, looking for desserts…”

She gave him a nudge. “If you don’t want it to happen then don’t say it. Maybe you already jinxed it.”

They proceeded to the cave’s entrance, but Frieda stopped just before going in. “Wait. You’re right, we should be prepared in case it comes back. Why don’t you guard the entrance and I’ll go look for… something? And you just give the word if something’s happening.”

He gave her a disapproving grumble, then nodded, if only reluctantly. “Be careful in there. If you do need any help, just say the word.”

After one last half-forced smile, she turned around once more, ready to fully explore the lair in front of her. Two steps in, however, she already realised she was going to need a special kind of help in order to find, or at least see, anything inside. She channeled mana into her hands and reached for the Fade - just one moment later, the bright glow of the small wisp she had summoned illuminated the rocky walls.

“Let’s see what we have here… oh.”

She stopped dead in her steps, marvelling at the trickery of the cave while the wisp hovered around her. Outside, it had seemed to go on forever, but after going just a short distance inside, the walls turned out to be showing nothing but a dead end. All in all, though, that was far from the only thing the cave entailed; trinkets littered the ground, she could barely make a step without stumbling across one of the many animal bones that were scattered all throughout the cave; filth that must have accumulated over many, many years. She could spot several chests sitting near her, her best guess being that they had once been in the possession of merchants and deemed interesting enough to keep after their owners had been killed. There were so many things in this hoard, it was possible to spend hours, even days doing nothing but search it and take it apart, trinket by trinket. Frieda didn’t have that much time, though. With the help of the staff she clasped tightly in her hand after having retrieved it from her back the force magic used on the piles of plunder aided her in the search for any relevant items.

It took much concentration, and more time than she was comfortable with, but after a long while of searching and sorting through the rubbish, there was a first sign that her work was not in vain: a torn piece of cloth, red, dirty and wet. It encouraged her to go on, with fervour she had almost lost, and the more she dug, the more pieces came to light that looked suspiciously like they could have once been part of Niki’s armour.  

With a pensive look, she sorted every piece of metal she found into a pile of its own while compressing her lips. There were quite a few weapons in the hoard, but none of them had struck her as her brother’s until a blade lifted itself in the air, black as coal and lined with gold, with an unmissable hook at its tip and a ruby at its hilt, sparkling as it reflected the wisp’s light. It flew towards her and fell to the ground. The more she stared at it, the surer she was; this had been her brother’s. She had been with him when he’d found it in a prison the Grey Wardens had built. There was none like it, this dagger was unique, built to unlock the contraptions of said prison. Kneeling herself into the dirt, she picked it up and looked at it up close.

There was no way around it; this was the ultimate proof that Niki had been here.

Her gaze shifted back to the pile of armour she had collected. Now that she was closer, and could examine it properly, it was easy to spot the old bloodstains on the pieces. Quickly, she averted her look, unable to bear the sight for too long.

For an indefinable amount of time, she just knelt there, trying to process the meaning of these discoveries. All along, it had been the giant that had killed her brother. He had been here, on his way back from Weisshaupt, fought with it and lost. It seemed such a simple way to go for a man such as Nikolai Hawke, she had always thought of him as invincible, able to take on anything in all of Thedas. Maybe that was the reason she had refused to believe this story about the giant, and always believed that there was more to it. Sure, the giant was dangerous, and fast, and scary, but Niki had fought against so many other creatures and won… She felt silly now, desperately trying to blame the Wardens for her brother’s death, trying to find proof of something that never happened. Hot tears fell on her hands and rolled onto the dagger she still clutched to her chest. This was the answer she had been looking for, this was all there was to it. But instead of being relieved, and filled with accomplishment, like she had hoped, all she felt was sorrow and disappointment.

“Frieda?” Her friend’s voice echoed along the cave walls. “Everything alright in there? I’ve not been hearing anything for a while…”

She nodded, even if she didn’t feel alright at all. This feeling would go away eventually for sure, and maybe then she’d have the closure she had been looking for. Only when Frieda heard Chris’ voice again, closer this time, did she realise that he couldn’t possibly have gotten her response.

“Is that…” He was staring at the pile of plunder she had accumulated.

“ _His_ belongings.” She nodded, confirming his suspicion. “It’s clearly his. Without a doubt.”  As she said it out loud, it was as if all the hope she had held onto left her body, leaving a big gaping hole in her chest.

“Oh, man….” She could feel his hand on her shoulder awkwardly trying to comfort her.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t change anything.”

Swiftly, her hand went up to her eyes, wiping away the yet unfallen tears. Her brother was dead, one way or another. It shouldn’t really matter to her which way he died, it didn’t change the result, it didn’t bring him back. Even so, it was so hard to believe that it had simply been a giant, no Wardens, no conspiracy, nothing to uncover.

Chris sighed and knelt down next to her, taking a closer look at the pile of armour. The pieces of metal and steel rattled when he suddenly pulled some of them out, destroying the order she had established.

“Look at these. They’re from a different material than the others.”

She examined the piece he was holding; it was a pendant, made from silver, depicting a winged creature with a great beak, but a body different from an eagle and a curled tail with a tuft of fur at its end. This was a griffon, a creature of legends, and the indissociable symbol of a very specific group of warriors in Thedas…

“Grey Wardens.” Chris looked at her. “They were here with him. This is proof, you were right!”

This was almost impossible to take in, having just started to resign into admitting she had been wrong. And now this. Before she could process, before she could even form a coherent thought and articulate it, she felt the light around them fade and looked up to see what had become of the wisp.

She was greeted by a deep growl from the cave’s entrance.

There the giant stood, stomping into its lair with big steps, obviously having scented them already. Its smell was unmistakable as well, though, as the stench that had faded the more time she had spent in this cave came back in full swing.

It threw something in their direction, destroying her pile of armour and metals and making it fly like projectiles. She ducked, and could only then see what it had thrown: it was the horse she had left behind, its lifeless body lying on the dirty ground, covered in blood and filth.

Her legs moved on their own to follow Chris as he ran forward, even though she felt bad for her horse, and that it had had to die for her, for them, for this. Maybe if she had taken it with them…

“To the exit!” Chris screamed. “If we stay here, we’re caged!”

It was a good thing he was so level-headed, for she thought of a million things, her brother, the Wardens, the dagger she still clutched to her chest and how they all connected. But his words made her run, just run straight ahead, even as the giant loomed in front of her, threatening and dangerous, but she was fast, and even though her heart beat at a startling rhythm and demanded that she catch her breath, she continued running straight past the giant’s feet without looking back.

It reached for her, but she dodged its grasping hands and avoided getting caught, prompting stomps and an angry growl from the creature. Just for a moment, she was disoriented, even as she continued to run, but it was enough to make her stumble and slow her down, trying to get back on her feet.

The giant’s hand grasped once again, now looming just above her. She still had the dagger in her hands, though, and she thrust it forward with all the strength she could offer to fend off her attacker. There was a resistance, telling her the target had been hit, paired with the numbing roar the giant let out in pain.

This was her chance.

Quickly stumbling to her feet, she didn’t hesitate and continued to run, escaping the cave and leaving it behind, leaving the giant behind, until she came to a massive tree nearby and stopped herself, hiding from the sight from any pursuers.

As she caught her breath, there was a chance to peek back at where the cave still lay from behind the thick trunk in front of her.

What she saw, though, made her heart sink.

Chris was still at the cave, his exit being blocked by the creature looming over him. His sword was drawn, and he seemed to be searching for an opening to be able to sneak past it.

Leaving him to fend for himself was out of the question, so without even thinking about it, she left her hideout and called to him, this time with staff in hand. To give him cover, she cast spells and hit the giant from behind - again and again. There was little effect to it, though, except another loud angry roar; it seemed that all she had done was make it even madder, until it turned around to growl directly at her direction.

“Run, Chris!” She yelled, throwing another ball of fire at the distracted creature.

And run he did, she watched as he dodged its legs and trying to get out of its reach. That was easier said than done, but still, she let out a sigh of relief as he made it out of the cave and onto the glade where she was standing.

Until the giant caught up with him, grabbing him into its violent grasp, huge fingers closing tightly around him and ensnaring him into a deadly squeeze.

Frieda wanted to cry his name, call out to him, but she was too terrified to form proper words, and all that escaped her mouth was a horrified scream.

There was no further time for her to react to what she was seeing, the giant didn’t give her that. Instead, it raised its hand, where Chris still struggled to get out, to escape from this deadly trap, and it threw him without any effort, like a small stone being thrown in the river, carelessly discarded.

She cringed when she heard him crash into the tree above her, and then falling, falling through so many branches much too fast than for him to be alright, but she heard him scream too, pained and frightened, but still alive, he was not gone yet.

Then there was another crash as he hit the ground with a blustering sound.

It was hard to make him out between all the branches and twigs he had taken with him on his fall, and he was lying face-down in the dirt of the riverbed. Motionless. Soundless.

There was nothing she wanted more than to rush to his side, make sure he was still breathing, still there. Making sure that there was a reason her mind refused to consider of the worst possibility, the very likely possibility. But she was not the only one trying to reach him. Already, the giant was making its way towards him.

Her fright slowly faded, making way for something much more powerful. _No_ , she said to herself. She would not let another thing take any more of the people she loved. Her father was gone, her brothers, her mother, and now this monster wanted to take even more from her? Christian, of all people, the kindest soul she had ever met, the father of her son, the one who had volunteered himself to accompany her on this desperate quest just to keep her safe. He deserved so much better than this. And even if she couldn’t have saved any of her family before, she would not let this thing take Chris. Not while she was still breathing.

“Keep your hands off him!”

She reached deep into the Fade and emptied her mana reserves to cast a powerful spell right where the giant was standing - and already, gravity changed in the affected area, pulling everything it could to its centre. It took its toll on the creature as well; instead of stomping towards Chris, it was fighting to escape the artificial field of gravity. She would not let it. As exhausting as it was, since she had never cast such a spell on such a huge enemy, her determination to maintain it kept her going.

With steady steps, Frieda walked toward it, casting another spell, and then another, until the giant was forced to its knees, screaming in pain. She didn’t let up. Continuously, she let her spells pull it to the ground, even as it tried to fight her magic with such astounding strength, and she could feel herself getting exhausted.

But before the exhaustion could show, there was a crack, and the giant fell entirely to the ground, twitching, still being pulled, but without any efforts to resist now.

Two more spells hit it, just to make sure it wouldn’t immediately get up again and continue if she stopped her spells, just so that they were safe.

Then she had to end it. There was nothing left, all her reserves were deprived, and her strength was waning as well.

Her knees trembled as she watched the giant, watched what it would do now that it was free again and the force that was holding it to the ground slowly faded. First, all it did was wail and lie there, but when it noticed that it was able to move around again, it slowly got up, dazed, and was running away from her, to the woods, holding its head and letting out an ear-piercing moan.

Frieda was catching her breath, her sticky hands still tightly clutched around her staff, when she heard a scream behind her. Relief and dread rushed through her in equal measure, and she hurried to where Chris was lying.

When she had been fighting the giant, he had rolled himself on the back, now pressing both his hands on his thigh, and there was blood, so much blood, all over his body and in the water as well, mixing into a fine, almost transparent red and floating away as if there was no need for it at all.

Her thoughts went to Albi, and how the ogre attack had almost instantly killed him. There was so much blood, too. But Chris was not dead. Not yet.

“Frieda.” He moaned. “I’m dying.” His face was covered in scratches and he was ghostly pale.

Without bothering with a reply, she grabbed him, quickly pulling him from the water.

“I can feel it.” His head wandered to wherever Frieda was moving, and he moaned again, despite his shallow breaths. “I can feel myself dying.”

She leant him against a nearby tree and tore open the cloth of his breeches a bit further to examine the wound closer; it was deep, very deep in fact, the blood was practically splashing out of it. This could only mean he had hit an artery in his fall, and she could see why he would fear for his life; so much blood had already been lost, and if she couldn’t do anything about it, she would lose him. Fast.

With a quick grab into her bag, she got a hold of one of the lyrium potions she had brought with them, and drank all of it in one big gulp, already feeling her energy coming back and preparing her for the next spells she would have to do.

Chris was still holding his leg and pressing his fingers against the wound again, his moans having evolved into a soft whine.

“Be still and lie down… everything will be okay.”

She supported him as he tried to obey, moaning in pain again and lying flat on his back, staring at the canopy above.

“This is it.” With a distressed sigh, he turned his head to look at Frieda.

She couldn’t return his look though, as she was now moving her hands to his leg, already omitting warm energy from them and filling the air around with a bright blue colour. This would require her full concentration.

“I just wish….” He started, his voice trailing off and becoming drowsier. “I wish we could’ve done this together, gone to Weisshaupt, and then, then….”

“We will. You’re not dying.” She interrupted him, her eyes still fixed on the spell. She would not allow him too, she could not think of it without it breaking her concentration, so she just rejected that possibility completely.

“Frieda, please. There’s no need to pretend.” There was something whiny in his voice now too. “I can feel it. And I need to say this before it’s too late.”

She had a bad feeling about this, but she had little choice but to grant him the words she was sure would not be his last.

“…and then we’d go back, y’know, to Orlais, like we said. Eat the lemon cakes again.” His sobs disrupted his speech. It took a moment before he had regained his composure and was able to continue. “And then I’d have told you. How much you really mean to me.”

His hand reached for hers, but she couldn’t move at all, not without interrupting the spell. If the spell failed, he really was going to die, so she had to concentrate, no matter how distracting his words were.

“I love you so much, Frieda. Always have.” His voice was still pained, but his breath was already much more steady. “I just wish we could’ve had another chance, and with Vic…” Another pair of sobs broke out of him, leading to openly crying without holding anything back. “I… missed so much already.” He closed his eyes. “I wish we’d have had more time.”

Frieda pulled back her hands from the wound that was much more superficial now. It was all that she could do, but she was sure that it would be enough for him to be stable. Now all that was left was for him to realise that he wasn’t already dead, and that he wasn’t dying anytime soon, and then maybe realising what he had just said to her. She for one wouldn’t let it get to her, not right now anyway. The relief of his survival dominated every other emotion she currently felt.

“Are you done?”

His eyes fluttered open again, startled, staring at Frieda, and then down to his bloodied but fairly healed leg.

She knew this probably wasn’t funny to him at, but his expression was just so baffled that she couldn’t help it and had to hide her grin behind her hand.

Obviously, he couldn’t explain himself what had just happened, as his scratched up face was still full of unasked questions, his puffy eyes longing for an explanation.

“I’m a mage, remember?”

He shook his head, very much in shock, but the realisation had already started to dawn on his face.

“Thanks for the reminder…” It was only a mumble, but he was forming a small embarrassed grin on his lips, too.

Frieda just giggled and leant down to pull him into a tight embrace, feeling relief and an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over her.

“Now I really want to die.” His laugh sounded fake, and she could hear the embarrassment in it as he slowly patted her back affectionately.

 

The way back to the waterfall was troublesome to say the least; even though she had healed most of Chris’ wound, it still hurt him, and besides, there were many other injuries he suffered from, most of them hindering him from walking well on his own, so she had tried to support him, and even that had made them so much slower, until he put more and more of his weight on her as to not slow them down so much.

At the top, Chris greeted his horse like an old friend. Luckily, he was still tied to the tree where they left him, and she helped Chris to get on so that he could ride while she lead the horse out of the forest and back to the village where they had met the hunter.

There was no question as to whether they should rest for now or go on, Chris was in no condition to travel and she was very, _very_ drained as well, so they took a room in an inn right in the village and both enjoyed long relaxing baths, since luckily, baths were something you could find at every turn in Orlais, as opposed to Ferelden.

Now they both lay in their room on their beds, resting, recharging their strength to go on, and in Frieda’s case, hoping Chris would be feeling much better in the morning already.

That was not all that was on her mind, though; so much had happened, and now that they were out of danger and safe, with both of them still alive, she finally had time to process it all. They had found Niki’s things, so he had definitely been there, probably fought the giant and been killed. But there were Wardens there as well, maybe with him together, meaning they had accompanied him from Weisshaupt to Ghislain, maybe to make his death look like an accident, which had, after all, succeeded. As to why they had wanted for her brother to die, she had no idea. Niki had spent so many years in Weisshaupt, trying to get them to talk to him, trying to get any kind of answers. Maybe he had stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have. Maybe they wanted to silence him forever. Whatever the reason, it was very clear now that they had wanted him dead. First, the hidden message in Niki’s letter, and now the Warden’s symbols right next to the Champion’s armour. They could only be linked… if only they’d have had time to look a bit further, maybe find some other things that had belonged to the Wardens… but then the giant had come, and all of that hadn’t seemed that important anymore, not when Chris’ life was in jeopardy because of it. Frieda still couldn’t believe how close she had gotten to losing him. It would’ve been too much for her to handle, too hard to go on without him. He was the only one that could still make her smile, that was still there for her after everything that had happened and everything she had done… He meant so much to her. Her thoughts leapt further, to the confession he had given. What was she supposed to make of that? Had he truly meant it, or was it just to make her feel… sadder… happier...more dramatic…? She didn’t know how he had thought it would make her feel, but if he truly felt that way, why hadn’t he ever said anything before he thought he was dying? What good was it to utter ‘I wish we could’ve had more time’ as his last words when he had never tried to talk about it back when they actually still had much time…? She didn’t know how to feel. It was confusing, to have something so positive as love between all that grief, and anger, and disappointment. It kind of excited her, too, though, and would not leave her, like a nagging feeling in her stomach that would only go away if she talked about it out loud.

She sat up and looked at Chris thoughtfully.

“We should talk about what you said earlier.”

He just groaned. “Do we have to? I’m already in pain.”

Of course, she had considered that, and decided it wasn’t good enough of an excuse.

“Did you mean it?” She asked in a hushed tone. Everything she had been thinking about depended on the answer to that question.

“Of course.”

When he said it, it sounded very self-evident. This opened the door to a lot of other questions, however, and she started with the one that nagged her the most.

“Then why didn’t you say anything before?”

Chris sighed a long sigh, as if he had already expected the question.

“Look.” He sat up, slowly, and only a bit, since it still hurt to move too much. “When should I have said anything, in your opinion? When you came back for your brother’s funeral? Or afterwards, when you moved into your brother’s former mansion? You were grieving. It didn’t seem right to burden you with _my_ feelings as well, that would’ve probably been the last thing you needed. I just wanted to be there for you until you felt better. And, well… here we are.”

His response made sense. She really had buried herself in her grief, but only because it hadn’t seemed right how Niki had died and it took so much time to find anything out. Had it made her unapproachable? Had she seemed that obsessed? But it was important to find out the truth.Who else was supposed to do it if it wasn’t her? She suddenly doubted if she couldn’t have handled everything better, perhaps focused more on the people around her rather than the ones who were dead. But still, there was one thing bothering about what Chris had said.

“I would have liked to be the one to decide what _I_ needed. I would have liked to have a choice in this, too.”

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just….” He sighed again. “I was scared, okay? That you’d say no and that we couldn’t even be friends after that. I mean… was it that far-fetched to think you’d moved on from us after eight years? After 15?”

She stayed quiet after this, thinking about his words, and the silence hung heavily between them, until she spoke again, softly.

“I hadn’t… I haven’t.”

There was a flicker of hope in his eyes, but he still didn’t say anything, maybe to wait for her to elaborate. When she stayed silent, he cleared his throat.

“So… what does that mean?”

“I…” Really, what did it mean? His words about her grief were still fresh in her mind, as were the revelations about her brother, and the giant, and the Wardens, and she wasn’t any less confused than before. But maybe he was right and that she had to see this through to feel better, and then there would be more room for what was between them. It didn’t feel right, though, after what they just went through, to wait now after she had almost lost him. “I don’t know…”

She gave him a helpless look.

“I don’t know what to do…”

His face softened and he slid a bit to the side of his bed, tapping on the place next to him to signal her to lie down next to him.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

She got up and went to sit on his bed, lying down on his arm and resting her head on his shoulder.

“But…” It didn’t seem right to leave it like this, to leave it open without properly telling him how she felt.

She stopped when he kissed her head.

“Why don’t we talk about this some other time... Maybe over some lemon cakes, hm?”

Frieda smiled and relaxed.

“That sounds perfect.”

As sleep overwhelmed her, all she could think about was how glad she was that Chris was here, accompanying her on the journey.

 

The Anderfels was an unforgiving and cold place; it had never recovered from the second Blight, which had left the land infertile and dreary, a wide landscape with nothing but steppes and occasional shrubbery. Along their way, there had only been sparse, modest villages that could be seen from afar, but looked no more inviting up close than from many kilometres away. Their inhabitants were an unfriendly folk, seldom able to speak any language but their own, and wary of any kind of stranger that walked into their small, tightly knit communities. More than once, Chris commented on his preference of the places and people they had met in Orlais, and Frieda couldn’t help but agree. This place was grim, sucking every piece of positivity out of one’s bones and leaving nothing but grievousness. It was hard to hope when everything around lay barren.

But Christian had always been an inexhaustible source of light and happiness, and she was relieved to see his spirit neither waned from the attack nor from this desolate place. He was beaming at her from across the table, his fingers tapping along the tinned cup in his hand. It was sweet how much his excitement still showed despite his best efforts to contain it, and she grinned when she saw how he subtly tried to scan the room for the person they were going to meet.

Their rendezvous point was a small pub in a village just several kilometres away from Weisshaupt. Considering the amount of customers inside, Frieda could only imagine that it had to be a successful business, despite its modest size; when they had first arrived, there was no vacant table for them to sit, and they had had to wait until a group of drunken men had surrendered the one they were sitting on when they had staggered out of the door.

She let her eyes wander the room as well, to see what other kind of people had accumulated in this place. In the corner opposite of the bar, a few bawling men were collecting bronze bets for the next fist fight. In front of them, a few children that were probably the landlady’s were playing and running around the room. Close to Chris and her, there were a couple of drinking villagers, loudly conversing in their own language and playing cards. A bard was playing the lute, and though he wasn’t very good at it, he at least seemed to be enjoying himself. The flute player’s skill next to him made up for it, too.

Most of her attention went to the group of warriors in silver and blue clad armour, though, that, with drinks in their hands, were laughing at one of their comrades who, obviously drunk, danced quite badly to the music, or at least tried to. Their breastplates were decorated with the same animal they had found on the pendant, back in the giant’s cave. The griffon. The Grey Wardens’ creature. Her gaze slowly turned into a deep scowl as she felt her anger return at the thought of what they could have done to her brother. Chris’ nudge made her shift her gaze back to him and away from the Wardens.

“You look like you want to murder them.” He whispered under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear over the music and the customer’s conversations. “Maybe tone it down a bit. It’s not exactly unsuspicious.”

She just nodded and drank her tea, trying to stay clear of any obvious stares at the Wardens’ direction. They surely had to be from Weisshaupt, though. After a few moments, she caught herself staring at them again.

Now they were cheering on the fist fighters. One of the two fighters, a fair-haired young man, gave his opponent such a severe punch with his right fist beneath the chin that said opponent toppled backwards straightaway. The Wardens’ cheers drowned out even the music as they threw a silver and blue top on the victor.

 _So it was one of them_ , Frieda thought grimly.

The fair-haired Warden took the money he had gained and distanced himself from the ring, stopping one of the children running past him by the shoulder and saying something she couldn’t make out from afar.

Frieda felt her heart miss a beat when the Warden suddenly raised his head and looked directly at her, catching her intense stare. Quickly, she turned her head around.

“Shit.” She looked down at her tea just as intensely.

“What?”

“He caught me staring.”

She exchanged an apprehensive look with Chris and avoided turning around again, or generally looking at the direction she had been watching.

Only when the Wardens were starting to leave the pub did she look up from her drink again.

“You think Valo-kas stood us up?” Chris was sounding  genuinely disappointed, but she couldn’t quite concentrate on what he was saying.

“Huh…?”

There was a sudden tug on her cloak, and she turned to see one of the children from before in front of her, dropping a little note on the table and vanishing again.

“I knew it was too good to be true…” He mumbled with a heavy sigh, obviously not having noticed the child that had just appeared.

Frieda unfolded the note. It was a sketch of the city and its surroundings, and there was a place circled along the river. Next to it, there was the careful handwriting she immediately recognised.

 

_“Tonight. Here. -Valo-kas”_

 

She showed it to Chris, who immediately got excited, asking where she had acquired it and if Valo-kas was nearby, though she was a lot less enthusiastic, staring at the note full of thought. Something about it just didn’t seem _right,_ though she couldn’t say what it was.

“What do you think? Isn’t this kind of fishy?” Her eyes still wandered over the piece of paper.

“Why’s that? It’s even the same handwriting, isn’t it? What’s so fishy about that?”

“Someone handed this to the child. I just saw one of the Wardens talking to her, and it wasn’t a qunari.”

Chris frowned. “... you think…?”

“Maybe his cover got blown.” She shrugged. “Maybe this is a trap.”

They both fell silent at that, and she read the note, again and again, hoping to find a clue that would help uncover why she felt so uneasy about this.

“We both know what they’re capable of.”

“So what are we supposed to do now? Just ignore this?” He gestured to the note, obviously not convinced.

Frieda thought about it and compressed her lips. They had come so far, but she had told herself to be careful so many times, had told herself to focus in order to be safe, because of how dangerous this was, and how unsafe. The Wardens had managed to kill her brother and cover it up, and she would be a fool to underestimate their cunning.

“Maybe this was a set-up from the start… The thing about the giant… The sudden message that he found something… For years, nothing but silence but then suddenly that message, sending us right into that hornet’s nest? Maybe I wasn’t careful enough…”

Thoughtfully, she bit the nail of her thumb, watching Chris’ reaction. He raised his eyebrows, but otherwise stayed silent.

“Maybe we can only trust each other.”

“Frieda…” He sounded careful, as if he wasn’t sure what to say so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings. “Valo-kas is with the Inquisition. Don’t you think it’s possible he only wants to help? It’s what he does, help people, being a hero.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Of course you’d say that. Niki always exaggerated in his stories, Chris, and he might not even be close to the hero you imagine.”

“It just seems… a tiny bit paranoid… Frieda…” He leant forward and carefully took her hand in his. “Let’s at least go and see what’s at the river.”

Now it was her turn to frown, and she looked away from him. It was possible, of course, that with everything happening, she had gotten a little paranoid. And maybe it was a good thing that he was there to point it out to her. But still, she rather wanted to go with her gut feeling since there surely was another way to find out what had happened, even if they had to do it all by themselves. She didn’t know what their chances would be if they had indeed killed Valo-kas as well, who had infiltrated that organisation for years, but maybe it was the safer way than trusting someone when her instinct told her not to. Whatever the case, it made sense to go to the river, just to see what it was truly about.

“How about just one of us goes to meet them and the other hides, ready to give cover? I’m sure they don’t expect us to be prepared for an ambush.”

She considered for a moment.

“I’ll have to think about it.”


	8. Gabriele II

**7**

_  
_ _“All knew the Golden Heart of dreams’ kingdom shone like a star,_

_forever out of reach.”_

**_\- Silence 1:6_ **

 

 **When times allowed it, the Wardens at Vigil’s Keep liked to take a day off for their birthdays.** Gabriele, even though she was their Commander, was no exception. All had been quiet as of late and luckily even on their way back to the Coastlands, they had not encountered any more obstacles. Considering what they had been through, Gabriele thought, this was only fair. For once they really needed a little peace and quiet.

“Well, birthday boy? Any plans tonight?”, she yawned, leaning back a little and scanning Rudolph Cousland, who was reading a fancy looking book on a pile of logs and branches.

The mage peeked up and gave her one of those characteristic warm, rudolphy smiles..

“I was thinking of maybe skipping the party, if that’s alright.”, his gaze turned to his book again and his palm scurried over the parchment on which he was taking some notes it appeared.

His journey to the fade had had left its marks on him. But now, after a few days’ rest the dark circles under his eyes had disappeared again and his cheeks got back their healthy rosy color.

“Cousland you disappoint me. I always thought the party was our thing.”

“I was not aware of that, Commander. To explain my thoughts, I assumed it best to continue assisting Wolfgang with his research. It’s probably of advantage I do so while I’m sober.”

Gabriele sighed ever so loudly. These men didn’t know when to stop working for just a second. In the past few years it had become somewhat of a tradition to spend their shared birthday together. The mage did not seem very fun at first but as the Commander had soon found out, he made an exceptionally great drinking buddy.

“The Vint can do just fine on his own, Cousland. Is that why you’ve been reading _that_ gibberish?”, she pointed a stubby finger at the book in Rudolph’s hand.

He looked a bit perplexed and shook his head.

“No…? I mean partially, sure. But it’s simply written in Tevene. Not even ancient. A magister’s apprentice wrote it last century. Notes and studies on the Magisters that breached the Golden City. I’ve studied that subject intensively in the past few years, though this book I haven’t read yet. Wolfgang’s personal library is quite formidable.”

“Are you telling me you speak Tevene now?”

“Barely, but I’m learning.”, he replied, taking a few notes.

The Vint had arrived with a carriage full of personal belongings. His and his companions’ attire would probably have fitted into one or two bags just fine. The remaining space held something that Gabriele could only describe as enough books to fill a midsize library and the magical instruments and gadgets of a mad scientist. Over the years more and more fresh shipments of books had arrived until the day came that Vigil’s Keep’s dwarven architect sought out Gabriele asking her to relocate Zinovia’s place of residence from the north tower to one of the cellars, since he was legitimately afraid the building could collapse under the weight of tomes and books the Vint brought into the keep.

“So have you had any new breakthroughs with him?”, she asked Rudi.

The casually asked question made the mage lay down his piece of charcoal which he was using to take his notes with. It made the Commander wonder if they had, contrary to her expectations, indeed found out something new.

“We’re going easy on the Vashoth for now, so we dedicated our research to the surroundings and circumstances we found them in. I am sure you recall the fire I collected? Can you remember how uneasy we felt around it? Wolfgang says he feels it as well, but Clara or Erwin don’t. Strange isn’t it? We want to run some more tests later today.”  

“Probably comes with being bloody Vints. They’re immune to creepy stuff.”, she snorted.

“Balls, Rudolph. Balls.”, it sounded from the yard in front of them.

Both of them turned their heads to look at August, who had ceased his daily exercise and was now headed towards them.

Gabriele let out a long sigh.

“Tabris, we get it. You don’t like the spooky green fire. Anything innovative you could contribute to the conversation?”  

The elf just shook his head as if he wanted to defuse the situation. In the end she knew that August was not one to seek an open fight. He probably felt utterly irritated and hated it.  

“All I’m saying is… My head is aching and I couldn’t get any real sleep in days because I had to lie there awake, fearing you’ve brought evil magic right to where we live. It’s just that… You wouldn’t bring a Dragonling into your house just because it’s interesting to look at, would you? And letting the Vint keep it down in that basement of horrors is just like letting said pet dragonling play with tinder. Sometimes I feel like Vigil’s Keep has become a clubhouse for dubious and immoral science projects. Might as well call this place ‘Little Minrathous’.”

“August.”

“Oh and I can barely eat either. I get sick when they cross my path. Any of them, not just Zinovia. And I’ve got the feeling that ‘bodyguard’ of his is just everywhere. With that dumb, childish smile… And his other friend is just… so...loud.”

“August, you’re doing _it._ ”, Gabriele raised an eyebrow as she interrupted the elf’s speech.

“Doing what?”

“Going completely bonkers in your measly self-pity, honey.”

To Gabriele, he was looking a little disappointed now. After all those years she knew better than to consider his plentiful complaints. If she gave him the attention he was seeking so desperately, from here on out his ploy would just mutate into a downward spiral of misery until it became the saddest pity party in all of Thedas. It was probably true that the situation troubled him to a certain extend but he was also prone to go overboard with his complaints. The Warden Commander doubted August was suffering as much as he claimed.

She didn’t know why he kept quiet now with just a weird expression on his face as if he had tasted something sour. Was it because he was set aback that she apparently saw right through his show? Unlikely, as he must’ve had been used to this by now. Rudolph’s silence was presumably the real reason behind that grimace of pouty bitterness. Usually the mage was very responsive even to the ouchiest booboo’s the elf threw his way. Did Cousland actually learn how to be less of a ready-to-help puppy?  The mage awkwardly looked at his reading as he noticed that Tabris’ glance rested on him.

By the ancestors, she loved these idiots.

 

“I don’t care! We want to go already! You can’t just keep us prisoners!”

The Vashoth boy stomped across the courtyard, behind him Clara Incendi, one of Wolfgang Zinovia’s companions, who was then again followed by the girl Vashoth. She quickly caught up with her brother and reached for his arm. Her skin looked as healthy as Qunari skin could look, it was remarkable. It had been little more than a week since she had undergone the Joining and lived. Now it appeared those kids were quite a handful and probably the toughest souls Gabriele had ever encountered.

“Oh, vashe-qalab! She’s _fine_! You’re all making up excuses so that he can run his basra vashedan experiments!”, the boy continued to yell.

Gabriele tried hard not to grin. With a weird expression she stared at Clara, who was now standing ten metres away. She did really not look as though she wanted to put up with the Qunari or being their babysitter.

“Didn’t you say you’re going easy on them, Rudi?”, Gabriele asked with a side glance at Rudolph.

“In a lot of writings it is said the qunari’s ancestors might’ve been dragons. Have you ever heard of a dragon successfully held captive somewhere? Complete freedom is all he has ever known. He’s never been a guest before. It’s only natural they want to return to what their life was.”, he replied.

The Commander grunted at the mages versant ramblings, while Tabris cleared his throat.

“That sounds quite poetic, Rudolph. But you should make up your mind: Are they guests or captives?”

For a moment it looked like Cousland was about to gasp, as true appreciation for the elf’s comeback laid in his eyes.  

Clara had caught up with the children, and was grabbing the boy by the arm, telling them something Gabi could not make out. She seemed upset.

Gabriele decided not to intervene yet. She didn’t really like Clara. The two of them just didn’t get along on their travels and the Warden Commander was glad they were coming to an end. A few years back when Wolfgang had first introduced himself and his companions at the beginning of their Blight research cooperation, the deadpan announcement of Clara being his family’s slave had caused quite some irritated looks all around the Fereldan Wardens. Slavery, like in most parts of Thedas, was banned in Ferelden. In the Tevinter Imperium though, where Zinovia was from, it was a firm part of their culture. Almost every mage family owned a few. But even Zinovia seemed to have concluded that abandoning this nice little tradition was the right thing to do because a few years later, he declared Incendi a free woman.

“So you’re threatening us now? Try it, bas! We can take you.”, the boy started yelling at Incendi, loud enough for Gabriele and the rest to hear.

“You’re ridiculous!”, Incendi yelled back.

The Vashoth boy was looking at his sister now while speaking some angry words in Qunlat.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re saying, I’m from the Imperium!”, Gabi could see how the grip around the Qunari’s wrist tightened as the woman pulled him closer.

The kid struggled but Clara was stronger.

She pressed her lips together and hissed something back in Tevene, while she dragged him back over the yard. His sister followed with an expression Gabi could not read.

“Aw man... “, the dwarf sighed and let her eyes wander back at Rudolph and Tabris.

The mage shook his head silently and returned Gabriele’s gaze with a questioning look on his face. He wanted to intervene, he couldn’t stand by when people fought, she knew that much about him.

“Well, go hog wild, Cousland. I’m not stopping you.”, she cackled and leaned back.

The mage stood up and made his way over to the other group. In his calmest, most plastic voice, he gently grabbed Clara by the arm and stated:

“I am sure we can fix whatever seems to be the problem…”

The qunari took that as a chance to rid himself of the Tevinter’s firm grip.

Gabriele trusted Rudolph to not let the qunari run away. And although she would’ve loved to watch Clara get tormented by them, she just recalled the young recruit that had stumbled into her chamber this morning to inform her that Zinovia would like to speak to her.

“I’ll check on the Vint.”, she casually remarked in August’s direction.

The elf sighed and nodded, then went back to train his sword work on the dummies.      

 

They had to build a new chimney for Zinovia, when he had moved down into the dungeons. He disliked the cool and humid air, because he feared it would damage his books. The mage was someone who seemed to need special treatment in general. Gabi often asked herself if all Tevinter Alti were this spoiled. As she was getting closer to his chambers, the presence of the green fire became noticeable. It sent a few shivers down her spine, before she eventually brought herself to opening the heavy ironbark door.

Zinovia didn’t seem to notice her at first, as he was dozing off at his desk, hunched over some weighty tome… With his eyes open?

“Zinovia you’re creeping me out.”, she laughed and made herself comfortable on a pile of books.

He obviously didn’t like it when she used his precious collection as seating accommodation but after about 4 years of traveling together he had given up on reminding her.  

It was not seldom for the mage to appear absent when he was too absorbed in his own undoubtedly countless thoughts. As far as Gabriele knew, most scholars she had met were like that, even though she had to admit that the Tevinter Altus played in a higher league, as far as this was concerned.

After being addressed, however, he looked up, as if he having been roused from a nap.

"Ah. Commander, congratulations. My apologies, I did not have any time so far to seek you out," he remarked with a faint smile on his lips.

Wolfgang Zinovia was kind of an enigma to Gabriele. Due to unfortunate and unforeseeable complications, he had been made a Grey Warden after he had been tainted with the Blight on one of his journeys. Legally he belonged to the Wardens of Orlais now, since their leader had conscripted him. Though in favor of finding a cure to the Blight, he had been assigned to Gabriele and the Wardens of Ferelden, to lend his expertise and insight.

Although the process was slowed by the rite of The Joining, essentially every Warden carried the taint and would eventually die because of it.

But the taint also changed you.

Only slightly at first but as the years crept by, you’d notice the darkened veins beneath your skin, black circles under the eyes and lastly, at about the same time as you’d descend into the madness that was the taint, your hair would fall out, too. Gabriele, nearing the end of her Warden-years knew this all too well.

But Zinovia sure didn’t look like he’d shed his luscious dark locks any time soon. In fact, Gabriele thought, he was probably the prettiest Warden around. Always prim and proper, with rosy cheeks, smooth skin and a neat trim. He didn’t look like he was in his forties (which he was), but rather like he’d just entered his thirties.

It was amazing, really, considering he spent two thirds of his time at Vigil’s Keep in this very basement, reading big books and writing down his musings…

...And then reading even more books.

A little Blood Magic was probably involved.

He was standing up straight now, looking around as if he was searching for something.

“Well, you wanted something?”, Gabi asked.

The mage shifted around from his desk and lifted a little box from beneath it. Gabi did not have to look to know what was inside.

“Indeed I did. Certainly you will recall when we last spoke of the lucent green fire you brought back from the caverns within the Deep Roads. Ever since then, my research has been particularly focused on the effects said fire has had on all those who have since encountered it. What struck me as most unusual was the lack of reaction from my companions, unlike my own malaise around the fire, or even that of yourself, Commander, and I could not forbear to notice that only those remain at ease around it who have never undergone the Joining ritual. Who have never been touched by the taint.”

Before she could answer anything, he continued, carefully guiding his thumb over the lid of the casket.

“It is an interesting thought... One might ask now, does it only affect people that were tainted or will it also cause discomfort among darkspawn themselves? Ultimately there are few things that embody the wickedness that is the taint more than them, wouldn’t you say?”

Gabriele knew better than to give an answer just yet, he seemed far from being done talking.

“And it seems I was correct. If you’d care to follow me?”, he didn’t even wait for her to get up from her book pile, he headed straight for the stairs that were leading even deeper into the cellars.

She let out an ugly groan and slid off the brick that was apparently an encyclopedia of the Fade. Conversing with the mage for too long was tiring to her. Yes, Rudolph Cousland for example liked to talk with similar, flowery speech patterns but at least he wasn’t so smug about it. Zinovia was not impressing her at the slightest.

She followed, wondering what strange experiments the Vint had come up with this time.

He lead her to the rooms in which he ‘performed his research’. Lots of apparatuses, lots of fancy equipment and - naturally - even more books.

“It was most unfortunate that our plan did not work out exactly as intended. But I think it best for us to approach this as optimists and deem this merely a small setback. We will get to the bottom of it eventually. And for as long as the Qunari children recover from that traumatic experience, we can search for more clues with the help of the fire. It may even play a rather large role in finding a cure in the end.” He chuckled and patted the box in his hands, smiling at Gabi, “You never know.”

His smug expression and vague hints left her pretty unimpressed. If he had something to say, something useful, he should just cut to the chase. The dwarf successfully suppressed her urge to tell him just that. It was too risky. He was unbearable when his feelings were hurt.

“What’d you wanna show me, Zinovia?”, she asked instead.

The mage nodded, maybe a little disappointed in her lack of response to his clever words. But he quickly placed the box of fire down at one of the workspaces. From a satchel next to it, he pulled a vial of a black fluid. Darkspawn blood, most likely.

Looking like a kid trying to fry an ant through a polished glass shard, he poured the liquid onto a plate and carefully slid it over, near the fire.

“By all means, Commander, come closer, come closer,” he instructed with glee.

She would’ve prefered to remain as far away from the flames as possible, though who was she to deny his request when he was looking this happy with himself. And so she took a few steps toward Wolfgang’s little experiment. When she was close enough and squinted at the blood and fire in front of her, she could observe how it was moving slightly, almost vibrating. Small ripples were cast towards the plate's edges.

"Well, it's reacting," she determined.

"It is! That explains our discomfort. And proves that the effect on Darkspawn is the same, if not even stronger! I did the tests, this fire is able to obliterate any trace of the Taint! In some regard that means this fire is a cure! Sure, considering how only organic material is affected by the Taint, it's... impractical to say the least. No cure to burning alive in flames, is there? Haha. One could suggest using it on tainted lands though, the Anderfels for example… The process, however, would be highly laborious, all considering. You see, this fire is unlike any fire we have encountered before, having much different properties and characteristics. For instance! Say you would like to light a candle with it, what is going to happen? It would burn, yes, that is normal enough. The flames, however, turn into regular fire, and there seems to be no way to multiply the mysterious fire you found. Which, of course, as I’m certain you will be able to understand now as well, will make the ‘de-tainting’ of an entire landscape that much more difficult. But these…” He shook his head as if to dismiss his own words. “…are just some thoughts and ideas of what we might be able to do with it. There are many more possibilities I can think of just in this instance. It really is remarkable, don’t you think? This is an enormous step to finding the cure. Finally!”

He blinked and paused a moment, before rearranging his smile. This man really was a handful.

“Really, Commander. There’s much to be excited about. If only I could find more about the fire’s origin, that would be an immense help. Maybe returning to the cave where you’ve encountered it…? It doesn’t come from the fade, that much is clear… there simply have to be more tests. And, of course, examining the Vashoths could shed some valuable light on this mystery… Whenever they’re ready, please send them my way, though I can imagine them already getting restless as we speak.”

She did not even try to hide her amusement over the irony of his words.

“Right. As **_we_ ** speak,” she grunted.

He seemed unimpressed by that, though, and just slightly smiled, apparently waiting for some kind of reaction.

When she thought about his words – that could’ve undoubtedly been shortened by a lot – she felt very much on the fence. On the one hand, it had taken them such a long time already searching for the cure, and they’ve had more than their share of disappointments and blowbacks. Somehow, she and her companions had expected more from this, some kind of big breakthrough that would lead them to the solution right away. On the other hand, he did have a point. This was progress, and progress meant they were getting there, even if it wasn’t as quickly as they wanted. Tabris would’ve probably liked to slap her across the face for that never-ending optimism.

She sighed and looked at Zinovia.

"What would you prefer? Another excursion to the Deep Roads or waiting for the Vashoths?"

The mage considered it, tapping twice against his smooth-shaven chin.

“I suppose it would be advantageous to undertake the tests on the Vashoths as quickly as possible.”

“Tests? No creepy Vint experiments on the children, please. And –a shame that I even have to tell you– no blood magic,” she responded and rubbed her temples.

As a dwarf, she had no problem being in rooms without daylight and fresh air, but staying in them for too long with the Vint present made her head ache.

“Commander, blood magic is just a means to an end. And even then, it is just in case of extreme emergencies.” Wolfgang slightly smiled, which didn’t really reassure her considering what he had just said.

But that was just the way he was. At least there was Rudolph to look over his shoulder and to stop him from doing anything too morally reprehensible. She definitely didn’t put it past Zinovia to do just that.

“Okay, Zinovia, listen. We’ll keep it the way it is, you do what you do best and why you’re here. I’ll send some of the mages back into the Deep Roads. Maybe Rudolph feels like leading the expedition. They’ll record their findings about the fire and report everything back to you. We can even bring some of those flames, there really was more than enough of that stuff.”

It looked like his eyes lit up from joy.

“That would be marvellous, Commander. I will certainly visit the place myself at a later point, though right now we should definitely concentrate on what is most important and time-sensitive. If you will allow, I would like to draft several instructions for the expedition group, just to ensure a swift and efficient search at the accurate places,” he said, walking around the experiment table again.

“Honestly, Zinovia, do what you must. Either way I’m glad about the progress.” She glanced at him one last time. “If this was everything, I’ll go back outside and enjoy the rest of my birthday. Maybe lose some rounds of cards to Tabris…”

Zinovia nodded and smiled.

“Of course, Commander. I, too, will go upstairs to look for Clara and the Vashoth children.”

He followed her to the stairs leading back to his office.

“Last I saw Rudolph was with them. Clara seems to be a bad babysitter.”

“She does?” He laughed. “Well, that’s hardly a surprise.”

They took the last few steps together to his study when she started reconsidering her plan for the day. Maybe she should talk to the Vashoths herself and show them that not everyone in Vigil’s Keep was as scary as the colourful group from Tevinter. After all, they had no idea how long they were going to stay with them.

“Changed my mind. I’m coming with you,” she abruptly announced, gaining an approving nod from Zinovia.

 

They found Rudolph and the Vashoths near the kitchen, but Clara was not with them anymore. Rudi’s presence and the prospect of a good meal seemed to have calmed the kids down. At least the brother had stopped screaming at people and restricted himself to scowling in Gabi’s direction.

She could live with that.

“Tastes good?” She asked, heaving a chair across the wooden floor to join the three of them at their table.

Behind her, Zinovia did the same, if only a bit more elegant and considerate to the floorboards.

Instead of an answer, she got the hint of a nod from the sister, who was breaking a piece of bread to dip it into her soup. Her brother didn’t deign to look at Gabi and Zinovia, only giving them one snarky side-glance.

“We would like to know if we can leave soon…,” the sister started.

Gabriele took a look, first at Rudolph, then at Zinovia. If anyone were to answer that, it was them, since they had spent most of the time with the children.

And wonder of wonders, Zinovia began to speak:

“It certainly is a difficult situation… You see, you are free to do what you want, of course. Still, you unknowingly completed a magical ritual that our Wardens had begun. You do know about the Blight and the Taint, isn’t that right?”

The girl nodded again.

“We, the Wardens, have been searching for a cure for a long time. And simply put, the magic of this cure, now resides in both of you,” the Vint continued.

They heard a scoffing grunt from where the brother sat.

“Nonsense. Even if we had drunk any cure, firstly, it didn’t work and secondly it’s gone. My Kadan almost died because of the Taint, despite drinking your so-called ‘cure’. We both drank it and destroyed it by doing so. And it felt like poison, not like any sort of healing. So search somewhere else, you geniuses.”

Gabi observed Wolfgang closely out of the corner of her eye. She was eager to see how he would handle the children. The mage didn’t waver and continued smiling, trying to make direct eye contact with the Qunari child.

“From a purely logical standpoint, you are absolutely right, of course… This, however, is a special kind of magic we have to activate via another ritual. Because of the strong traces of this magic I’m sensing in your bodies, I’m certain it still slumbers inside of you. We will extract the magic and you can be on your merry way.”

“Vashedan,” the boy immediately countered. “I don’t trust any Vint. And even if it’s true, I don’t care what happens to the Wardens. Why would I stay here even one second longer…?”

Zinovia nodded.

“I understand how difficult it must be for a Vashoth to trust an Altus from Tevinter,” he noted.

“Yep,” the Vashoth shrugged and returned to his soup.

“The things our mother told us… Please don’t be offended. He’s just… We are just careful,” his sister tenderly spoke up again.

She didn’t seem as grim as her younger brother. Much more polite than the average Qunari in any case.

“Also, Wolfgang is rather the pariah in his homeland,” Rudi added. “He serves the Wardens of Orlais and Ferelden, not the Imperium.”

Cousland’s eyes met with those of the boy Vashoth. To Gabi’s surprise he snorted, then turned a horned head back at the Vint.

“ _Is_ he, now?”, the boy remarked.

Gabriele couldn’t really read the situation right now, but something was clearly going on. She could hear it in his tone of voice. There was something about it… Exchanging a few glances between Zinovia and Cousland, her suspicion was confirmed. They both acted strange. The Fereldan was doing his best not to let it show and the Vint’s cheeks flushed in a pale red as he repeatedly blinked at the child and the other mage a few times.   

“Wolfgang has been helping us for a long time now. He’s my friend and I trust him.”, Rudi clarified with a friendly grin in Zinovia’s direction, who smiled back.

“There is nothing you have to worry about, really.”, the Vint added calmly.

The Vashoth boy wrinkled his nose and uttered an abrupt cackle.

“Sure, because I’ll believe anything _you_ have to say, Vint,” he said still cackling und shaking his head slowly.

Pretty cynical for a child.

“Of course, it would also be advantageous for your sister to stay with us. As soon as we have the cure, we can help her as well. Since technically, she _is_ a Warden…” Zinovia slightly leant back on his chair and wiped a dark curl from his brow.

“But like we already said, we’ve got to keep it a secret,” Gabi quickly added with a wink addressed to the Vashoths.

Apparently this was news to the boy, because now he turned away from his soup and crossed his arms. He gave his sister a quick look that she immediately returned. Then, she nodded and lay her slender hand on his upper arm. Finally, her lips formed a little smile and her brother spoke up again:

“We’ll think about it…”

 

Gabriele was all too happy to leave the persuading itself to Rudolph, since he seemed to be the only one the kids trusted in the slightest. If Zinovia wanted to join that party, it was fine with her, too. In some sense words were his strong suit… or at least that’s what he liked to pretend.

She, Cousland, Zinovia, and the children were on their way to the cellars again, to Zinovia’s little kitchen of horrors. About 20 meters before the big, heavy doors, leading to the cellars, the dwarf felt a hand on her broad shoulders. It was Cousland, who reached up an index finger, to place it on his lips.

“Wha-” Her mumbled sentence was cut short when she looked up and saw the gesture he was making.

Then she felt it. Like second nature, the familiar dark premonition woke all her senses and alerted her to the danger: a darkspawn was close.

“Cousland-” His grip on her shoulder tightened even more, and he was shaking his head.

He gestured his head towards Zinovia, who was leading their group with his back faced to them, chatting happily away. Again, Cousland was shaking his head.

Gabriele grimaced in confusion. They were heading directly towards the whereabouts of a darkspawn, why didn’t Rudolph want her to say anything? Surely, he had to feel it as well.

Her lips formed the word ‘darkspawn’ to signal him exactly that, and he nodded, acknowledging its presence, but again, covering his lips with his finger.

With a shrug, she gave up on understanding his weird behaviour. Whatever was going on, she trusted Cousland, so she kept her mouth shut.

Until they reached the cellar door, that was.

Zinovia was still going on about something to do with the architecture of the Keep when his hand reached for the door handle and she couldn’t help herself any longer.

The darkspawn’s presence was so strong now that it could only be on the other side of that door, and they couldn’t just walk right into it!

“Zinovia, watch out!”

But her warning came too late, he was already pulling the handle, having little time to react when the hurlock on the other side pushed his way through.

He almost jumped when he dodged the attack, and before Gabi could do anything about the matter, the darkspawn screamed as it lit up when three arcane bolts hit it. They struck in its chest twice and once in the head.

It dropped to the ground, fried and dead.

Next to her, Rudolph folded his sleeves, his hands still smoking from the magic he had just used.

“That was a close one, Wolfgang. Are you alright?”

The Vint had to force his look away from the darkspawn and to the other mage, awkwardly shifting from a fighting position to a more relaxed one.

“Why, yes I am… Why was there a darkspawn in my study?” The tone of his voice was steady, but the confusion was still written all over his face.

“You didn’t sense it?” Rudi asked.

That’s when the copper piece dropped. What all this secrecy had been about, or rather, who it had been about.

 _Cousland, you sneaky bastard_ , she thought and watched as Zinovia grew pale.


End file.
